The Attic
by MetalOx137
Summary: Piper Halliwell and her sister Paige discover an unusual family secret while preparing to sell their grandmother's house. Episode 1 of the Charmed AU series.
1. Chapter 1

The old house sat serenely on a tree-lined street atop a gentle grade in the rolling San Francisco hills, its dark magenta exterior appearing almost mauve against the sunless, overcast winter sky. A black SUV pulled up alongside the house, and after a lengthy pause, turned into the empty driveway. The engine shut off, and a moment later, a young woman emerged from the driver's side door. She buttoned up her beige jacket, walking slowly back along the driveway she'd just entered and then up the sidewalk, choosing to approach the house from the front. A light breeze tugged at her shoulder length nut-brown hair, and she irritably pushed her bangs to one side of her forehead. She stared up at the house, her face impassive, stopping at the first of a series of steps cut into the hillside, leading up to the porch. She sighed heavily.

"What the hell, Grams," she murmured.

She stood there for several moments, obviously not wanting to go up to the house. As she wavered with indecision, an off-green pickup truck, dented and battered from many years of hard use, pulled up alongside the curb. An attractive young man smiled at her as he emerged from the cab.

"Miss Halliwell?" he asked.

The young woman nodded. "I'm Piper Halliwell."

"Leo Wyatt," the man introduced himself, extending a hand in greeting. "From the inspector's office."

"Oh." Piper took his hand, and shook it perfunctorily. "Thank you for coming over."

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Piper noted that the young man was stunningly handsome, and apparently unmarried - he wore no ring on his finger. He was dressed in a flannel work shirt, jeans and boots, none of which hid his chiseled figure. At any other time, Piper might have entertained a notion to flirt with him. But today her heart was heavy, and she had no stomach for what she needed to do this day.

Leo glanced up at the old house, carefully noting external features of the building, and he nodded approvingly. "This is your place?"

"It is - it was - my grandmother's house," Piper answered tonelessly. She forced herself to look at the young man and smile at him.

"Was," Leo repeated, noting the correction to past tense.

"My Grams died last month," Piper tried to explain in as few words as possible. "I've been designated her successor trustee, and I need to make arrangements to sell the house. But before I can do that, I need a property assessment."

"I see." Leo paused for a moment. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thanks." Piper was by this time responding to all expressions of sympathy by rote.

"So, you'll need a full appraisal of the house." Leo's statement was actually a question.

Piper gave him a humorless smile. "I need an ultra-detailed list of everything that's broken, chipped, scratched, stained or dented," she declared. "God only knows what potential buyers are going to want to haggle over." She sighed again, a barely masked exhalation of grief.

Leo regarded the young woman with genuine concern. "I'll be sure to document everything for you," he promised.

Piper caught the sympathetic tone in Leo's voice, and she managed to give him a much warmer, friendlier smile. "Thank you."

Leo stepped over to his truck, and returned a few moments later with a large tool belt fastened around his waist, and a large clipboard in one hand.

Piper still didn't seem inclined to move, so Leo prompted gently, "Shall we go up?"

"Yeah," Piper agreed reluctantly, shifting her purse a little higher on her shoulder. "Yeah. Might as well. Day's not getting any younger."

She began to mount the concrete steps, moving slowly and unwillingly. Leo fell in pace behind her, a step and a half back. By the time they reached the steps of the porch, Piper's gait was less forced and her footsteps less leaden. She began to dig inside her purse for a house key. As he waited, Leo surreptitiously inspected the wide porch, the doorframe, and the paneling. The double doors each had an inset pane framed by stained glass panels of pastel blues and greens, with orange highlights.

"Do you know how old the house is?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," Piper answered. "It was built after the big quake in '06, but I don't know the exact date. I'm sure there's paperwork around somewhere that can tell you."

"It's Eastlake style," he said appreciatively. "A good example, too."

"Sorry, what?"

"The architectural style. Eastlake Victorian."

Piper merely gave a slight shake of her head in response, she couldn't have cared less.

"Looks like it's been kept up pretty well," Leo ventured. "The paint job looks to be about four years old, but it's still in good shape."

Piper found the key she was looking for and withdrew it from her purse. As she fitted the key into the lock, she cautioned, "Most everything is turned off. I was last here about a month ago, and I just took the perishables from the kitchen and shut off everything I could think of."

Leo nodded. "I'll need to turn all the power back on, so I can check the fixtures and outlets."

The key turned in the lock, and Piper gave the right side door a gentle push. It opened easily. "You'll probably want to check the circuit breakers first, then. They're in the basement."

She pushed the door open wide, but the weak winter sunlight barely penetrated the gloom inside. Piper ran her hand along the inside wall, feeling for the light switch. As she pushed it, there was a loud click, but no illumination.

"No luck, huh?" Leo took a large flashlight from his tool belt and turned it on. The bright beam cut a ghostly swath through the entryway, leaving deep, elongated shadows in the corners. Even in this dim light, a fine layer of dust was easily visible atop all the furniture.

"Which way to the basement?" he asked.

"Back towards the kitchen," Piper pointed. "It's under the main stairwell, but on the opposite side of the wall."

"Okay. Give me a minute. I'll get the power back on, and then we'll see what we're really dealing with."

Leo ambled with unhurried ease into the darkness. Piper shivered, but not from cold; she stood motionless in the foyer, barely a step inside the door, and hugged herself tightly. She did not want to be here. She didn't want to begin the long, arduous and grief-inducing process of sorting through her grandmother's belongings. When she was a child, this old house had been home to Piper, her mother, her grandmother and her sisters; she remembered being immensely happy here. But Piper's mother and eldest sister were many years dead, Piper and her other sisters had grown up and moved away, and now her Grams was gone as well. The house was not so much haunted as empty - achingly, unnaturally empty. The house should have resembled a decaying ruin, the better to match the emptiness within. Piper had to fight the instinct to turn and run, to flee the house forever, and never once look back.

As she stood in the gloom, Piper jumped, startled, as the overhead lights suddenly came on. Leo must have found the breaker box and was evidently restoring power to the rest of the house. Shuddering involuntarily, Piper hurried through the foyer, trying not to look at anything as she passed. She made a beeline for the kitchen, the one room in the house where she knew she would feel the least uncomfortable.

The windows in the kitchen were all shuttered, but Piper hastily unfastened all the clasps, and opened each blind as wide as the slats would allow; a feeble amount of winter daylight streamed in. She pushed the light switch, and sighed with relief as the overhead lights came on instantly, adding to the ambient light. Despite a fine layer of dust on every surface, the room immediately seemed more cheerful.

Piper shrugged her purse off her shoulder and set it on a corner of the table. Before she could do anything else, even before removing her jacket, she felt she had to wipe the countertops and table surfaces clean, to give her both an emotional and practical workspace from which to start. She found dishtowels in one of the drawers and carefully wiped down first the island in the center of the room, then the open areas of the counters, and finally the top of the dinette table. Surveying her hasty cleaning efforts with ill-concealed dissatisfaction, Piper shrugged herself out of her jacket, returned to the foyer and hung the jacket on a peg near the door. She had almost made it all the way back to the kitchen, when she heard a light tapping sound behind her. Piper turned to see a young dark-haired woman standing in the doorway and smiling broadly at her.

"You left the door standing open," she said in greeting.

"Paige." Piper hurried forward and hugged the girl tightly.

With a grunt of surprise, Paige Matthews did her best to return the hug, but her left arm was pinioned by Piper's embrace, and her right was weighted down with the large paper grocery bag she was carrying.

"How you doing, honey?" Paige asked, when Piper finally released her. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Piper sighed, discreetly wiping a tear away with the back of one hand. "I'm fine. It's just gonna be a lousy day, that's all." She managed a mournful smile. "It's really good to see you, Paige."

"Good to see you, too," Paige assured her.

Piper looked at her baby sister almost longingly. They had not seen each other since Gram's funeral six weeks ago, but to Piper the interval seemed more like years. Paige had dressed appropriately for the work day ahead - a dark grey t-shirt under her jumper, frayed and faded jeans, and a pair of sneakers that had definitely seen better days. Her long dark hair, normally cascading in gently curled ringlets on either side of her face, had been pulled back into a loose ponytail. The effect made her naturally round face appear almost moon-shaped.

"You had a good flight?" Piper asked.

"Actually, I drove," Paige admitted.

"You did what?!"

"Well, since I'm moving back up here, I thought, why wait, so I just packed whatever I could into the bug and headed up yesterday. Got in around midnight. Grabbed a hotel room just outside of Oakland."

"Paige, why didn't you call me?" Piper moaned, aggrieved.

"It was late. I didn't want to wake you. It's fine. I'm probably going to crash on your couch tonight, though."

"It's yours," Piper promised.

"Anyway, before we start in on everything, I brought us some breakfast," Paige announced, hoisting her bag a little higher. "Juice, coffee, breakfast sandwiches and fruit cups."

Piper grimaced. "Oh, Paige, that's really sweet of you, but - I'm really not very hungry."

"Piper, you have to eat something," Paige admonished gently. "We're going to be working all day, and you don't need an empty stomach to give you even more stress. And I know you haven't eaten anything today. Am I right?" Without waiting for an answer, Paige took Piper's hand and tugged it gently. "Come on," she coaxed. "Let's have a bite to eat before we start digging into this whole mess. Okay?"

"Okay." Piper allowed herself to be dragged back into the kitchen. As Paige set her paper bag down on the kitchen island, she looked around almost in reverie.

"God," she murmured. "I can't even remember the last time I was in here. Probably been over a year."

"One year, two months, and three days," Piper informed her. "But I'm not counting."

Paige grinned. "Of course you're not."

The sound of clomping footsteps caused both women to look towards the cellar door. Leo Wyatt emerged, smiling broadly.

"Power's back on," he announced.

"Thanks," Piper nodded. "Paige, this is Leo Wyatt. He's here to do the home inspection for us. Mr. Wyatt, this is my sister, Paige Matthews."

Paige held out a hand. "Hi. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise." He clasped the young woman's hand, and shook it gently in his strong grip. He gave them both an embarrassed smile. "And call me Leo. Please."

"Well then, Leo, where would you like to start?"

Leo gave Piper a smile warmer than the winter sun. "Well… since I started in the basement, I thought I might as well begin by checking the foundation, and then work my way upstairs. If that's okay with you."

"Whatever works for you," Piper demurred. "I'm not the expert."

"Would you like some fresh coffee, Leo?" Paige invited him. "I picked up a carton at the market on my way over here. There's enough to share."

"I'm good, but thanks for offering." He started to turn away, to head back down the stairs, but then stopped in mid-turn. "If you ladies need anything, just give me a shout," he offered.

"We will," Paige promised, and with a friendly smile, Leo disappeared into the stairwell.

"He's cute," Paige ventured, as she began to unpack her grocery bag.

"Yeah, I suppose," Piper agreed without enthusiasm.

"He likes you," Paige added in a coaxing tone.

Piper rolled her eyes. "Oh, Paige, don't start," she sighed.

"What?" Paige protested. "All I said was, he's cute and he likes you. It wouldn't hurt you any to notice." She opened the coffee carton and carefully poured some of the hot, bitter liquid into an insulated paper cup. She added two single-serve packages of half and half, a teaspoon of sugar, then stirred it gently and handed the cup to Piper. She took it with a subdued smile.

"Thanks."

Paige pushed two of the chairs out from the dinette, and proceeded to brush away the dust on the seats and chair backs with the palm of her hand.

"Paige!" Piper remonstrated.

Paige gave her sister a tolerating smile. "Piper, we're going to be hip deep in dust and grime all day today. Deal with it."

She carefully wiped off her hands with a clean towel, then settled herself into one of the chairs, and held out a wrapped breakfast sandwich to her sister. Piper accepted it grudgingly and sat heavily in the chair across from her.

"Thank you."

As she began to unwrap her sandwich, Paige asked, "So, have you talked to Phoebe?"

"I spoke to her two nights ago."

"And?"

"And she's staying in New York." Piper could see that Paige was going to argue, and raised a preemptive hand. "She says there's none of Grams' belongings that she wants. And she says she'll approve any financial arrangements we make regarding the liquidation of assets, selling the house, and so on. She won't contest anything."

"So, she won't come back at all?"

Piper shrugged wearily. "Phoebe seems to be happy where she is. I can't make her do anything she doesn't want to do."

"Well, that's… disappointing." In truth, Paige was downright annoyed; she bit deeply into her sandwich, to focus her anger on something other than her wayward older sister. "You don't think Phoebe's not coming because I'm here, do you?" she asked reluctantly.

Piper sighed. "Paige, don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not, it's just - she's never really considered me family."

"Well, she's wrong," Piper declared forcefully, giving Paige a reassuring smile.

"I wish she would have come to Grams' funeral," Paige said quietly.

"Yeah," Piper answered, with genuine sadness in her voice. "So do I."

The two women sat in silence for a time, finishing their breakfast. Once she was sure Piper had finished her meal, Paige smiled at her sister. "Better?"

"Yeah," Piper admitted with a nod. "That did help, actually. Thanks."

"Hey, it's the least I could do." Paige shifted in her seat slightly, feeling awkward about the question she was about to ask. "Piper - have you ever thought about… instead of selling the house, maybe we should just keep it?"

Piper looked up in surprise. "What? Keep this place?"

"Well, I mean, it's been in the family four generations."

Piper looked at her sister incredulously. "Paige, do you have any idea what the property taxes are like around here?"

"I'm not saying it wouldn't be difficult -"

"Impossible is the word," Piper cut her sister off. "The taxes alone would take almost my entire salary for a year. And that's not even dealing with the upkeep and maintenance."

Paige's expression turned wistful. "I know. It's just - we grew up here."

Piper shook her head. "It's just a house."

"You don't mean that."

"Sure I do."

"Well, I'll tell you what. I'll believe you when you say it's just a house, when you can walk into Prue's bedroom and stand in there for more than ten seconds, and not get completely creeped out. I'll bring a stopwatch."

"That's not fair," Piper complained bitterly.

"My point is, it's not just a house," Paige said quietly. "If it was, you wouldn't feel such a terrible ache in your heart, like you do now."

Piper looked up at her younger sister with a dumbfounded expression. Paige always had the ability to surprise with her sudden insights. If Paige couldn't read minds, she could certainly read hearts - and none more clearly than the one belonging to her big sister.

"I'm sorry you had to be the one to take care of Grams," Paige continued. "And I'm sorry you're the one who's stuck with the job of cleaning up her financial affairs. But you're not alone any more, Piper. I'm home now, and I'll be right here with you. I'm not going anywhere. And I will do anything I can, to help you."

Piper reached across the table and clasped her sister's hand. "You're very sweet. You know that, right?"

Paige smiled as she gave her sister's hand a gentle squeeze. "Look. I just want you to consider, now that I'm moving back to San Francisco, we don't have to share an apartment that's only eight hundred square feet, with just a sheet of drywall between the bedrooms. We could share this place. If we're going to have to shell out a fortune for living space no matter where we go, then why not stay here?"

She leaned back in her chair slightly and gave her sister an appraising stare. "Come on. Tell me you're not the least bit tempted."

"Well…"

"Don't think of it as Gram's place. Or even mom's place. This could be OUR place. Just look around, think of everything you could do with all this space."

Piper seemed to be wavering, so Paige added coaxingly, "I'll let you have first dibs on any of the bedrooms. And I'll help you make it over any way you want. Do you really want to rent a place no bigger than a cardboard box for the rest of your life?"

"No, I don't," Piper admitted.

"Well, then?"

"Let me think about it." Paige was about to protest, so Piper added quickly, "I'm not stalling. This is hard for me. Okay? I'll think about it."

Paige knew her sister well enough to know that it was time to let the matter drop - at least for now. "Okay," she relented. "So, are we going to sit around feeling sorry for ourselves, or are we going to try to get some work done around here?"

"We should," Piper agreed, and then sighed. "I just don't even know where to start."

"Can I make a suggestion?"

"Sure."

"We start by dividing everything into one of four categories. Things you want to keep, things I want to keep, things to be sold, and things to be donated or thrown away."

"Nothing for Phoebe?"

"You gave her a chance," Paige pointed out. "She doesn't want in, that's her problem."

"Okay, so, where do we start? By that I mean, where in the house."

"You could start by helping yourself to that really cute home inspector in the basement," Paige giggled.

Piper rolled her eyes. "Okay. Enough. I forgot how annoying you can be."

"Endearing," Paige corrected her.

"Yeah. Whatever. All right, he's starting at the bottom and working his way up. So we'll start at the top and work our way down."

"You want to start with the attic?" Paige asked dubiously.

"No better place to start building the junk pile," Piper pointed out.

Paige shrugged. "Fine by me."

After finding a spare garbage bag in one of the cupboards, Paige placed the discarded wrappers and emptied paper cups into it. The housekeeping done, the sisters left the kitchen and trudged up the stairs towards the attic. Paige noted with dismay that Piper barely even glanced at the second floor landing as they passed it.

As they reached the attic door, Piper gave a little cry of vexation. "Oh, damn."

"What is it?"

"I just forgot - this door is locked. And I don't have a key for it."

"Well - maybe we could pick the lock?" Paige suggested. "Or maybe our home inspector has a skeleton key on him?"

"I am NOT trudging up and down four flights of stairs looking for a key," Piper said firmly.

"Piper, you're going to be doing this all day today, like it or not," Paige pointed out. "Embrace your stair destiny. Unless you're thinking of putting in an elevator."

Before Piper could reply, there was a loud and sharp clacking sound - like a rusty deadbolt being pulled back. The noise had come from the other side of the attic door. Piper and Paige looked at one another apprehensively.

"You heard that, right?" Piper asked.

"Yeah," Paige agreed uncomfortably.

They both stared at the door.

"You don't suppose …"

Cautiously, Piper put her hand on the doorknob and gently turned it. The latch withdrew from its mortise, and the door opened easily on slightly creaking hinges. Piper turned to Paige.

"I swear, this door was locked," she insisted.

Paige made a helpless shrug of her shoulders. "Well… it's not locked now."

There was some faint light coming into the attic from the far window that faced the street, but not nearly enough to see clearly. Piper ran her hand along the inside wall, feeling for a light switch. Finding one, she pressed the switch, and a single bare incandescent bulb in the center of the room winked on. The room was still quite dimly lit, but at least it was enough to see. The sisters walked into the room slowly, looking around.

The attic was no mere crawl space - at its height, the sloping roof was easily ten feet from the floor. The space was large enough, and wide enough, to have made a decent sized sitting room. Only the fact that the temperature was considerably colder than the rest of the house kept it from being an inviting space. Paige craned her neck, looking along the bare crossbeams overhead.

"No insulation," she noted.

The room itself was far from bare, however. Several pieces of upholstered furniture, including a pair of chairs and a loveseat, were tucked away under heavy sheets, also coated with a heavy layer of dust. A set of shelves filled with corrugated boxes and two old dressers lined one wall, and a freestanding mirror almost six feet tall stood in one corner. Near the window, an ancient steamer trunk sat squatly in the space where light from the window would fall directly on it.

"This was a bad idea," Piper sighed despairingly. "We could spend an entire day going through this one room."

"We just need to be ruthless," Paige attempted to bolster her sister's courage. "We can spend all our time weeping over broken toys mom saved from when we were kids, or we can pitch 'em and say, good riddance." She glanced over at the window and frowned. "That's odd."

"What is?"

Paige walked the short distance across the room to where the steamer trunk stood in a pale beam of winter sunlight.

"This trunk…"

"What about it?"

"Nobody's been up here, right?"

"Not for months or maybe even years, as far as I know."

"This trunk is clean. Everything else in here is covered in a thick layer of dust, but this…" she ran her finger along the lid. "Not so much as a speck."

Piper made a moue of bemusement. "Maybe it was just put up here recently."

"No, look at it, Piper. It's so clean and polished, it almost shines. No way it could have been sitting up here for any length of time, and not have some dust on it." She cocked her head and stared at it in puzzlement. "Do you recognize it?"

Piper shook her head. "No. Never seen it before."

"Yeah, me neither." She stole a glance at Piper. "Should we see what's inside?"

Piper made an off-handed shrug. "It's not locked. Knock yourself out."

Paige knelt down beside the trunk, and gently lifted the heavy metal latch. The faceplate contained a metal ring to fit a padlock, but apparently none had ever been added. Paige put a hand on either side of the lid and gently pushed up.

"Please tell me it's full of pirate treasure," Piper said, leaning over to look. "Gold doubloons that will make us filthy rich."

"No…" Paige said slowly, reaching inside. After a moment, she lifted out a massive, hand bound volume that was easily a foot and a half wide and tall, and at least ten inches thick.

"A book," she reported, struggling to stand up while balancing the tome's evident weight in her arms. "A really big, really heavy book."

"Good grief," Piper murmured, marveling at the size of the book. "It's lovely… whatever it is. What is it?"

They both stared at the leather cover, stained dark green, with an embossed triquetra in red in the center. Piper cautiously reached over and let her fingertips skim the surface of the design.

"I'm guessing you've never seen this before, either," Paige said.

Piper shook her head solemnly. "No clue."

With Piper's hand to steady the book, Paige carefully turned up the cover to reveal a title page.

"The Book of Shadows," she read aloud, staring at the faded calligraphy on the yellowed paper.

"What the hell…?" Piper murmured.

Paige carefully lifted the sheet, noting its brittleness, and turned to the next page. "Hear now the words of the witches," she recited. "The secrets we hid in the night. The oldest of Gods are invoked here, the great work of Magic is sought." She looked up from the text and stared at Piper in astonishment.

"It's a grimoire," she gasped.

"A what?"

"A recipe book for magic."

They started thumbing through some of the following pages - slowly and carefully, as many of the sheets of paper were quite old and extremely brittle.

"Look, it's full of spells," Paige marveled. "Real spells. A whole book full of them."

"My God," Piper murmured, shocked.

Paige carefully passed the book into Piper's arms, so she could continue browsing. Paige knelt down beside the trunk again to see what else might be inside.

"There's more stuff in here," she reported, reaching in again.

"Ha!" Piper snorted with amusement. "There's a spell in here to turn a rude guy into a toad. Man, what I wouldn't give for that to be a real spell!"

"How do you know it isn't?" Paige asked, gently pulling a flat, wooden object from the trunk.

"You don't think Grams was into this stuff, do you?"

"Well, I don't know about Grams, but mom certainly was," Paige declared, standing up again with a new item in her arms.

"What is that?" Piper gaped. Paige was holding a flat wooden board, polished so its surface shined like a gemstone, and burnished with letters and numbers running across its face, and another triquetra in its center.

"A spirit board," Paige informed her sister.

"Why do think mom has something to do with it?"

"Because she left us a note on the back of it." Paige carefully turned the board over, and on the opposite surface, a carefully handwritten note was etched into the wood.

"To my beautiful daughters," Paige read aloud. "May this give you the light to find the shadows. The power of three will set you free. Love, Mom."

Piper gave her sister a blank look. "Why do you think it was our mom who wrote that?"

"Look at it, Piper. That's her handwriting. I'm sure of it."

Piper looked, and almost swooned, as her sister was right. It was her mother's hand and no mistaking.

"Maybe this is why we were never allowed to go into the attic?" Paige wondered aloud. "Mom and Grams were up here turning their ex-husbands into toads?"

"My dad is only a toad in spirit," Piper retorted.

"Hey, at least you know who your dad is." Paige knelt down again, leaving the board resting gently against the side of the trunk. "Well, if we have a spirit board, there must be a planchette in here somewhere."

"A what?"

"A pointer. You know, so you can let the spirits pick which letters they want to -"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, all right, already," Piper cut her off.

"What's the matter, Piper?" Paige grinned. "Believe in ghosts much?"

Piper shook her head incredulously. "I can't believe mom was into this stuff, all this time, and none of us ever knew."

Paige pulled out a dark red drawstring bag from the trunk, and removed a large silver double-bladed knife from its sheath.

"Damn," she whistled, holding up the knife. The blade gleamed brightly, even in the faint light of the attic. "That ain't no letter opener."

Piper stepped over to one of the covered chairs, and despite the dust, settled herself on the edge of the cushion. She left the heavy book slip to the floor beside her, and buried her face in her hands.

Paige, seeing her sister's reaction, quickly left the artifacts by the trunk and hurried to her sister's side.

"Honey, you okay?" she asked worriedly, putting a comforting hand on Piper's shoulder.

Piper slowly raised her head. She wasn't crying, but her eyes were tear-bright.

"I knew we had family members who were bipolar, or drunks," she sighed. "But crazy? Believe in magic crazy?"

"Mom wasn't crazy."

"Paige, mom thought she was a witch!"

"How do you know she wasn't one?" Paige countered.

"A real witch?" Piper snorted. "Seriously, Paige, are you gonna tell me you believe in that stuff too?"

"Well… mom obviously did," Paige pointed out. "I'm going to guess Grams did, too."

"I can't deal with this," Piper moaned despairingly.

Paige dragged over a small three-legged joint stool, setting it in front of Piper's chair. She settled herself down on it, and took her sister's hands in hers.

"Look, we knew there was a chance we might find some family time bombs when we started poking around in here," she said quietly. "So we find out our ancestors are a little more colorful than most. So what? It gives us an interesting heritage."

"It just makes me want to cringe," Piper groaned.

Paige grinned in response. "It makes me want to find out more about them," she declared. "Think about it, Piper. Mom and Grams were witches. There's a whole other side to them we never knew about. Doesn't that interest you at all?"

"NO," Piper said flatly.

Paige sighed, and stared at her sister for a long moment. Piper was more than despondent - she was on the edge of true clinical depression. Paige stood up and held out her hand.

"Come on," she said.

Piper looked up at her. "What?"

"We're going back downstairs. We'll start at ground level instead. Leave the witchy stuff to me. I'll take care of it later." She gestured for Piper to take her hand. "There won't be anything spooky or supernatural about appraising a dinette set or a living room couch. Right?"

Reluctantly, Piper slipped her hand inside her sister's. Paige helped her to her feet, and put a comforting arm around Piper's shoulder as they walked back to the attic door.

"I'm so glad you're here," Piper murmured. "I really missed you."

"That's good," Paige declared solemnly. "Because I really missed you, too."

Arm in arm, the sisters left the attic behind. A few moments after they had descended the steps, the steamer trunk lid raised up, and flipped itself closed, indignantly.


	2. Chapter 2

Prudence was the oldest of the Halliwell sisters. She was born a full two years before Piper, who was next oldest. Prue, as her mother called her, was blessed - or cursed - with a thick mane of raven-black hair, glittering dark green eyes and a ferocious temper, a fury which gave even adults pause. Prue tormented her baby sister constantly - physically at first, and following the gift of speech, verbally. The mother and the grandmother argued furiously over whether or not to bind the child's temperament for everyone's well being. But then, something miraculous happened. Perhaps it was magical. Prue, being then five years of age, suddenly seemed to realize that her own happiness was directly tied to Piper's - and from that moment on, appointed herself sole and absolute guardian of her sister's contentment and well-being. Even the most newly arrived Halliwell sister, Phoebe, did nothing to sidetrack Prue's mothering of her siblings. Prue remained domineering at the best of times, but she was also fiercely protective of her younger sisters, and Piper and Prue became inseparable - and remained so for the next three years.

A series of calamities followed. The father, Victor, left for reasons that were never explained or understood; the mother, Patricia, seemed inconsolable. The grandmother, whose name was really Penelope but whom all the adults called Penny, hovered around the children in a perpetually indignant huff. There was, briefly, another man around who seemed to make the mother happy, but the children knew little of him and barely saw him. Then the mother suddenly plunged into a truly inconsolable grief. The children didn't understand why. They only knew that their mother would sit at the kitchen table hour after hour, crying uncontrollably, sometimes murmuring phrases of utter heartbreak. My dear one. My little child.

Then came the accident.

At least, the authorities reported it as an accident. Even when it happened, just two weeks after Piper's eighth birthday, the lack of explanation gave suspicion that all was not right. The family had been camping at the lake, a favorite spot to visit in the summer. When Piper was older, she read the accounts of the park rangers who were presumably eyewitnesses to the event. But there was a curious lack of detail that could not be accounted for. The mother and the eldest daughter, it was said, were rowing a canoe on the lake early one morning, and the canoe capsized, drowning both. The explanation was too pat, and as Piper grew older, she grew more and more certain that the story had been entirely fabricated - for whatever reason - out of whole cloth. Her mother, who loved the shoreline, had never been in a boat - at least, not that Piper ever knew of. Why would her mother suddenly take to rowing a rickety old canoe out into the center of a lake? And why would she have taken her oldest daughter with her? Why was no one else in the family aware that any of this was going on - until well after tragedy struck?

Two months after the accident, Penny Grams brought another child home to the manor. Her name, Grams told them, was Paige, and that she was their mother's fourth and final child, a lost sister who was now going to live with them. Paige was a tiny, wide-eyed, moon-faced four year old, with dark hair like Prue's, but possessed of a sweetness of temperament unlike anyone else in the family. Paige was serene, even angelic. She would wander the house, singing songs to herself in a breathy soft voice. But six-year-old Phoebe flew into a white rage. She was too young to understand the word grief, but she knew well enough she couldn't work through it in peace with this dark-haired, angel-eyed interloper following her around everywhere. Phoebe began to subject Paige to a frightening level of abuse, far worse than any Prue had visited on Piper; and on one bleak, terrible night, Grams did what she had to do to protect all three of the granddaughters that had been suddenly left to her to raise alone. The children never understood what "binding" meant, or why Grams was so solemn from that day forth, but peace - of a sort - was restored to the household. Phoebe never took to Paige, but the abuse stopped. Piper - seeing that Paige needed a protector in the same way that Prue had once protected her - latched onto her new baby sister for dear life and never let go.

The years passed, the children grew into young women, while Grams slowly but inexorably withered into cronehood. One by one, the sisters left the house, and the only home they had ever known, to make their way in the world; Piper stayed nearby to help Grams, and Paige sometimes strayed, but never too far or too long from Piper. The two sisters by different fathers, tethered by the same mother, were now captured in each other's orbit for both their lifetimes. Phoebe was mostly entirely absent from the family from age eighteen onwards, living adventures and seeing places of which only she could recount.

Piper was now the oldest of the Halliwell sisters. And as she grew into adulthood, the absolute sureness of that knowledge ate at her, gnawing incessantly at her spirit like a growing ulcer.


	3. Chapter 3

Piper and Paige returned to the ground floor of their grandmother's house, attempting to start over with their inventory. They both agreed to try the living room first, simply because it was the room with the least number of items - and thus presented what they hoped would be a way to ease themselves slowly into the heartbreaking task of sweeping up the remnants of their grandmother's life. They looked around the room for several long moments. As far as rooms in the manor went, it was sparingly but comfortably furnished with a few well chosen pieces of furniture - a long couch, two upholstered chairs, end tables with lamps, and a low coffee table in the center.

"We could start with these," Paige suggested gently, mindful of her sister's fragile emotional state. "Is there anything here you think you might like to take back to your apartment?"

Piper walked slowly into the center of the room, staring directly at the couch for several moments before collapsing abruptly upon it in tears.

"Oh, honey," Paige murmured with dismay, rushing to her sister's side. She sat beside her and pulled her into a close hug.

"I can't do this," Piper sobbed.

Paige almost held her breath. "Do what?"

"How do I put a price tag on my grandmother's life? How can I just discard everything she ever owned, like all of it meant nothing?"

Piper stopped abruptly, not trusting herself to speak, but Paige said nothing and waited patiently, not daring to hope that her big sister might be on the verge of changing her mind. Finally, Piper drew in a ragged breath and continued.

"I mean, I can't even make up my mind about a damn couch. How am I supposed to be able to make decisions about every single thing in this house?"

"You can," Paige tried to assure her.

"Almost everything Grams owns has some sort of family history attached to it. How am I supposed to put a price tag on that and sell it? Or worse, throw it away?"

Sympathetic tears began welling in Paige's eyes, and hugged her sister even more tightly.

They were still sitting together, weeping, when Leo Wyatt entered from the kitchen area.

"The basement is finished," he started to say, but stopped abruptly as he saw the sisters crying softly in each other's arms.

"Is everything all right?" he asked quietly.

Piper was still too fragile to make conversation, but Paige managed a tearful smile.

"It's okay, Leo, really," she assured him. "We lost our grandmother recently, and right now, we're just missing her. Very much."

"I understand." Leo nodded somberly. "If you ladies would prefer to be alone for a few minutes, I can start in the upstairs bedrooms. I can do the ground floor later."

"That would be great, Leo, thanks."

Leo started to turn away, but then he paused. "If there's anything else I can do for you, please ask."

Paige looked at him in surprise. She wasn't used to such solicitude from complete strangers, but she perceived that Leo's offer was utterly genuine. He saw two people trying to deal with heartbreak, and in sympathy wanted only to help ease their pain.

"We will," Paige said. "Thank you."

Leo returned Paige's grateful smile with a somber one of his own, then he turned and headed upstairs.

"He really is very sweet, isn't he?" Paige murmured, continuing to stroke Piper's hair.

"Yes, he is," Piper agreed, her voice little more than a croak.

A mischievous smile played about Paige's lips.

"And he's got a really cute butt."

Despite her grief, Piper burst out laughing. "For goodness' sake, Paige."

"Come on, Piper, seriously? A boy that cute, and he wants to be that helpful, and you're not the least bit interested? Don't you want to just pounce on him?"

"No, I do NOT want to 'pounce' on him," Piper retorted, but the vehemence of her denial suggested she was guilty of thinking that very thing.

Paige ceased her teasing, but continued to stroke her sister's hair and rub her back for several more moments until she was noticeably calmer.

"Thanks," Piper sighed gratefully.

"You're welcome."

"How do you do that?" Piper asked.

"Do what?"

"You always know what to do to make me feel better."

"When you're happy, I'm happy," Paige said simply.

Piper looked around the living room and sighed profoundly.

"What should I do, Paige?"

"Well, if you've decided that you're unable or unwilling to serve as executor of Gram's estate, then we do have other choices. We could hire a professional appraiser to come in and handle everything for us. That might save us some of the heartbreak, but I kind of doubt it. And of course we'd have to pay the appraiser a portion of the proceeds." She paused. "The other option is to keep the house in the family."

"How would we do that, Paige? How could we possibly afford to stay here?"

"I don't know," Paige admitted. "But I do know I would hate to lose this place. And I don't just mean because I have memories of growing up here. Sure, the house is old, and it needs a lot of work. But it's a nice house. In a safe neighborhood. With more than plenty of room for both of us to live lives of our own, without having to swing any elbows for personal space. The other option is to live in apartments the size of shoeboxes for the rest of our lives. For the record, I really don't like that option."

"No," Piper agreed somberly. "Neither do I."

"Look. I've agreed to move back in with you. And if you think our best option is to sell the house and look for an apartment, then that's what we'll do. All I would ask is, before we commit ourselves to that decision, let's sit down and work out a budget. Include all of the expenses we know, utilities, taxes, everything we can think of, and compare it to what our incomes are. Let's see how far short of the mark we really fall."

"And what if it takes everything we have?"

Paige shrugged. "I'm willing to give everything I have," she said simply. "If you are."

Piper looked around the room again, clearly wavering. Paige sat quietly, awaiting her sister's decision, but her heart was nearly in her throat.

"We'd barely be scraping by," Piper said after an interminably long pause.

"What if we were to add a third income?" Paige suggested.

"How do you mean?"

"There's three bedrooms. We could always rent out one of them."

Piper shook her head. "I'm not even willing to consider that option. This is my family's house. I can't imagine letting some strange person share it with us."

"But you're willing to sell the entire house to a group of complete strangers instead?"

Paige immediately regretted her question; it made her sound more angry than she really was. Piper was even more heartbroken than Paige at the possibility of losing the house. But Piper's desire to sell was coming from a place of fear, not because it was the right thing to do. Paige decided to suggest the nuclear option.

"There's always Phoebe," she said quietly.

Piper shook her head. "Phoebe's in New York."

"For now." Paige took her sister's hand in hers and squeezed it gently. "If she's approached the right way, maybe we could persuade her to come stay with us for a little while. Just until we can get ourselves established."

"Paige, Phoebe couldn't wait to get away from here," Piper pointed out. "I can't imagine under any circumstances that she would ever come back to San Francisco, let alone set foot in this house again."

"Well, we won't know that unless we ask her, right? What do we have to lose?"

Piper regarded her sister for a long moment.

"You really want me to ask Phoebe to come back?"

"Sure, why not?"

"How would you feel about that? You and Phoebe never exactly got along."

Paige shrugged. "We were kids."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it," Piper remonstrated.

"Well, maybe this will be a chance for us to start fresh. We're adults now. I'm not going to hold grudges from second grade over anybody's head - especially not my sisters."

"Sometimes those are the hardest grudges to forgive," Piper said soberly. "But I'm more concerned about the fact that Phoebe has said barely two words to you, since she was, oh, I don't know, twelve?"

"She's had a chance to be out on her own for a while now," Paige answered thoughtfully. "I know when I first moved out, that experience really changed how I felt about myself, and my relationship to my family." She smiled. "It made me appreciate them that much more."

"I don't want you to downplay this, Paige," Piper said sternly. "If Phoebe's being here is going to make you uncomfortable, even in the slightest, then I'm not willing to consider it."

"I don't want the same relationship with Phoebe that I've had in the past," Paige admitted reluctantly. "But, I'm willing to see if we can change it."

"Only if she's willing to change, too," Piper declared. "I'm not having you do all the work of maintaining that relationship with her. She has to at least acknowledge you, dammit."

"Well, before we get that far, let's just ask her if she would even be willing to consider moving back here," Paige suggested. "It might be like you said. Maybe she's got herself set up in a good place in New York, and won't want to leave."

Their conversation was interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell. Paige and Piper exchanged a puzzled glance.

"Are you expecting anyone?" Paige asked.

"No," Piper shook her head. "The home inspector's already here. Just ignore it."

But then they heard the sound of the front door opening, and a female voice calling out timidly, "Hello? Anyone home?"

Paige and Piper looked at each other in disbelief. Paige drew in a sharp breath. "That isn't -"

They got up off the couch and looked towards the foyer. A young woman with light brown hair reaching almost shoulder length was giving them both an embarrassed smile.

"Hey, you guys," she greeted them shyly.

Piper's mouth fell open in utter surprise. "Phoebe?!"

Paige looked at Piper with a moue of bemusement.

"Or maybe we could just ask her right now," she said.


	4. Chapter 4

"Phoebe, what are you doing here?" Piper asked, still too surprised to move. "We thought you were in New York."

Phoebe Halliwell smiled at her sisters. "I was."

Paige frowned slightly. Phoebe's whole body language felt wrong; her stance and posture suggested great irritation or even fright. She was too reserved, too acutely self-conscious, and her smile was clearly forced; it vanished from her face the moment she no longer needed it.

Piper shook off her astonishment and hurried into the foyer to give her prodigal sister a bone-crunching bearhug. Paige noted, with concern, that Phoebe accepted the gesture but barely reciprocated.

"Did you just get here?" Piper asked, still staring agog at Phoebe's presence and holding onto the sleeve of her jacket, as if trying to assure herself that her sister was really here.

"Just flew in," Phoebe nodded, and for the first time, Paige could catch a hint of the sheer exhaustion in her sister's voice.

"Welcome home," Paige said automatically, covering for Piper. "We're happy to see you."

Knowing full well that her sister didn't like to have a fuss made over her, Paige gave Phoebe a quick but heartfelt hug, then just as quickly released her before she could make any protest. But even as she did so, all three sisters were startled as the chandelier in the dining area began to glow with an eerie light that cascaded down from the ceiling, like tendrils of shooting vines. The effect was not unpleasant but certainly bizarre. Then, as quickly as it had come, the light faded away; the bulbs went dark, and Piper belatedly realized that the chandelier had not been switched on.

"What the hell…?" Piper murmured.

They heard a clomping of boots from somewhere above them, and then a male voice called down the stairwell.

"Sorry, ladies, that was probably me," came the voice of Leo Wyatt. "I think I may have tripped one of the circuit breakers. I'll check it in a minute."

"Okay, Leo, thanks," Piper called back.

"Who is that?" Phoebe demanded, pointing at the ceiling. Once again, Paige could clearly hear a deep unease or fear in her sister's voice, giving it an angry edge.

"That's just the home inspector," Piper answered mildly, but Paige could tell that Piper was sensing Phoebe's agitation as acutely as she was. "His name is Leo Wyatt. He's nice."

Paige took advantage of Phoebe's momentary distraction to study her sister's face. She was clearly exhausted; she must have taken an overnight flight that probably left New York some time just after midnight. Dark circles were starting to swell under her eyes.

"Will you stop it with the bug-eyed voodoo stare already?" Phoebe grumbled irritably. "Five years, and you haven't changed a bit."

An angry honking could be heard just outside the house, and Phoebe groaned in dismay. "Damn it. I forgot the taxi. I've got a suitcase down there, too."

"I've got it," Paige assured her, almost leaping for the door. She looked back at Piper's questioning stare. "Piper, it's okay, I've got it."

She hurried out the front door, and Piper turned her full attention to Phoebe.

"You look exhausted," she said sympathetically. "Did you sleep on the plane?"

"Not much," Phoebe admitted.

"Would you like to sit down?"

Phoebe shook her head wearily. "I've been sitting in a seat that's too damn small and no padding for almost ten hours. I still can't feel my backside."

"Would you like to stretch out on the couch, then? I can bring you coffee - or brew some tea."

Phoebe frowned in puzzlement. "You're not living here, are you?"

"No." Piper shook her head. "The coffee's from the market. The tea would be anything that's left over in the pantry. Paige and I were just camped out here today, to start cleaning up the house and get it ready for sale. How did you know we'd be here?"

"I didn't," Phoebe admitted. She seemed on the point of collapse, so Piper gently but firmly guided her into the living room, and sat her down on the long couch.

"There, just sprawl yourself out on that," she ordered. "We still have some coffee and fruit left over from breakfast. I'll bring it for you."

Phoebe didn't argue. She first sat, then lay down across the length of the couch, and closed her eyes as tears began welling in them. She listened with bemusement as she could hear Piper pottering about in the kitchen; those, too, were familiar sounds that had barely changed since Phoebe left home so many years ago.

Piper returned a few moments later with a mug of re-heated coffee and a fruit cup. Phoebe sat up so that she was half sitting and half reclining, and took the items gratefully.

"Thank you."

She sipped the coffee with closed eyes, breathing in deeply to take in the bitter aroma. She had just started in on the fruit cup in earnest when Paige came into the foyer, slightly breathless and lugging a medium-sized light blue suitcase.

"How long are you staying for?" Piper asked Phoebe.

"I don't know," Phoebe answered after a moment's hesitation. "I just know I'm not going back to New York. I'm done there."

Piper raised an eyebrow in surprise but didn't comment. Paige came in and seated herself in one of the nearby chairs and gave Piper a questioning glance. Piper's response, given with a simple look, was that they needed to give Phoebe some space and a moment to recover herself. Paige nodded with a smile, and settled herself in to wait. Paige and Piper had arrived at a point where verbal communication between them often times wasn't even necessary - they just had to look at each other to know what the other was thinking or feeling. Phoebe's energy level was almost nonexistent - she focused all her attention on her breakfast, one exhausted bite at a time.

"Thanks," she said gratefully, when she had finished. "I hadn't eaten since yesterday. They don't serve meals on the overnight flights."

"You're welcome," Piper answered, who by now had settled herself into the last remaining chair. "So, what happened in New York?"

"Oh, you know," Phoebe sighed. "The usual. Lost the boyfriend. Lost the job. The incessant and mundane crises of life." She paused. "I saw dad."

Piper drew in a breath. "You found him?"

"Took some doing, too," Phoebe grumbled. "It's almost like he was hiding."

Phoebe didn't seem inclined to elaborate, so Piper prompted gently, "Did you talk to him?"

"I did."

"And?"

"And…" Phoebe adjusted her weight on the couch slightly, approaching a sensitive topic. Displacement activity, Paige noted.

"The Cliff Notes version is, he doesn't want to see us, or know us, or have anything to do with us. Ever."

Phoebe made no attempt to hide the bitterness in her voice.

Piper absorbed the news like a physical blow, but the only betrayal of her feelings was a slight pursing of her lips. Phoebe sat half-upright on the couch, staring intently at her sneakers, tears welling in her eyes.

"Did he say why?" Piper asked, after a long interval had passed. She was struggling to keep her voice calm.

Phoebe shrugged. "Does he really need a reason?"

Piper let escape a barely audible sigh; there was no point trying to ask Phoebe any more questions while she was in this frame of mind. But there was one other question she knew she had to ask.

"So, what do you plan to do now?"

"I don't know," Phoebe said honestly. "The only thing I know right now is, I have no more family in New York, and never will."

Phoebe shrugged her shoulders violently, as if physically trying to throw off her malaise. She sat up and looked around the room as if noticing it for the first time.

"So, you guys are going ahead with plans to sell this place?"

"Actually, Piper and I were just talking about that," Paige cut in quickly before Piper could reply. "We were thinking that maybe we could just move in here instead."

"Do you need a roommate?" Phoebe tried to pass off the question as a joke with a weak laugh, just as forced as her smiles had been; but there was no mistaking the near despair in her voice. Piper and Paige exchanged a quick glance.

"Honey, we'd love it if you wanted to move in with us," Paige declared. "In fact, we're not sure we could hold onto the house without you."

"We haven't come to any decision yet," Piper said primly, staring down her nose at Paige, "But now that you're here, if that suggestion interests you, we can discuss it."

"I'm interested," Phoebe said simply, and Piper had the sinking feeling that Phoebe's acute interest was because she had run out of places to go. In the back of Piper's memory, an almost forgotten quote stirred itself awake: home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in. She no longer remembered the source of the quote, whether it was something she'd read or overheard, but it now stood vividly in the forefront of her thoughts. Coming to a decision, she stood up.

"Well, then," she announced, "If you're not too exhausted to help Paige and me with a little cleanup and a little inventory check this morning, we'll make sure you get fed and have a roof over your head, until the three of us have decided what we want to do. Does that sound like a plan?"

"That sounds wonderful," Phoebe said gratefully, and for the first time, she had a smile that wasn't forced. As she got up off the couch, she gave each of them a quick hug.

"It really is good to see you guys," she murmured softly.

"It's good to see you too, Pheebs," Piper said mildly. "But now, I'm going to crack the whip and put you to work."

Phoebe even managed a real laugh. "I live to serve, my queen," she declared with mock solemnity.


	5. Chapter 5

Although Phoebe was clearly exhausted, Piper and Paige found that their sister's presence did help galvanize their efforts to catalog all their grandmother's belongings. Whereas before, any attempt to appraise an item sent Piper into a blue funk, now the possibility of keeping the object in question, and finding a place for it in a new Halliwell Manor presided over by the three sisters, cheered her immensely. Piper was still terrified by the amount of debt they might face if they decided to keep the house, but the more she entertained the idea of making the house their own, she more she liked it and began to focus her thoughts and plans in that direction.

As the morning wore on, and midday was approaching, Paige took Piper aside.

"Phoebe's done in," she reported in a confidential voice. "I thought I could order some Chinese take-out for lunch, and then we could take a break for a couple of hours."

"That sounds like a great idea, Paige. I'm starting to feel a little hungry myself."

"I was also thinking we could invite Mr. Wyatt to join us," Paige suggested shyly. "He's almost done with the inspection. He could give us the highlights of his findings over lunch."

"Sure, why don't you ask him? Where is he, anyway?"

"Still upstairs, I think. I'll go track him down."

Paige hurried up the stairs to the second floor, and stood at the landing. She couldn't hear any movement from any of the bedrooms or the bathroom.

"Hello? Mr. Wyatt?" she called out. She waited a moment, and hearing no answer, called out again in a slightly louder voice. "Leo?"

"Up here," came a muffled voice from somewhere above her.

Realizing that the inspector must be in the attic, Paige hurried up the next flight of steps. She found Leo Wyatt standing near the window at the far side of the room. She also noted, with chagrin, that she'd left the grimoire and the spirit board sitting out on the floor near the trunk. She could only hope that Leo had paid the personal effects no mind. From his footsteps in the fine layer of dust on the floor, it appeared as if he had given the trunk a wide berth.

"Hi," Leo greeted her with a friendly smile as Paige entered the attic. "I was just about to come find you. I wanted to ask your permission to remove these panels."

He indicated two wide planks of wood just behind him.

"What's back there?" Paige asked.

"This is a bay window," Leo explained. "There should be three windows seated here. But the two side windows are covered up. There's only one nail at the top and bottom of each panel, so I think the these covers were only meant to be temporary."

"Sure," Paige shrugged. "Why? Is it important?"

"Only if there's a broken window pane behind it. I didn't see any cracked panes from the outside of the house, but it won't hurt to check."

"Go right ahead," Paige nodded. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"This attic - do you think it's meant to be like this?"

Leo seemed bemused by the question. "Do you think it's meant to be like something else?"

"Well… I was just thinking, it's almost as big as any of the common rooms downstairs. I thought we could turn it into a sitting room, or maybe even another bedroom."

"No reason why you couldn't," Leo answered. "You'd need to have it insulated, of course. There's no insulation up here at all. You've probably noticed, it's a lot colder up here."

"That's for sure," Paige agreed with a slight shiver.

"And you'd need to put in some fixtures. Apart from that one light, there's no other wiring anywhere in the attic. And if you're thinking of actually making it a living space, then you should seriously consider putting in a radiator - or even a permanent floor-mounted space heater."

Paige grimaced. "Sounds expensive."

Leo grinned at her. "The good news is, there's no sign of leaks or rot anywhere up here. The roof integrity is fine, you won't have to worry about it for years. Even the floor's in great shape. The attic's certainly big enough and wide enough to use for something besides long-term storage." He took a small crowbar from his tool belt, and examined the wood panel closely.

"I want to be careful," he explained, as he cautiously positioned the implement. "It looks like a really nice frame under here, and I don't want to damage it."

"I trust you," Paige said, and with a smile Leo began the delicate work of prizing off the wood planking from the frame.

Both came off quickly and easily, and behind them were two more wide windows made of panels of stained glass, similar to the ones used on the front doors. The amount of light in the attic immediately increased three-fold, and even Paige was delighted by the result.

"Wow, that makes it look so much nicer already!" she marveled, looking around.

Leo wasn't paying attention; his focus was on the windows themselves. He leaned in to examine them closely, and carefully ran his hand along the entire frame.

"No drafts," he reported, standing up. "The seals are nice and tight all the way around. In fact, no damage or wear of any kind that I can see. Of course, now that the windows are exposed, it will get colder up here. But there's nothing that needs any kind of repair."

"That's great!" Paige was still looking around at how much the extra ambient light improved the room, making it seem more open and inviting. "Hey, if you're just about finished, my sisters and I were thinking of stopping for lunch. We were hoping you might join us."

"That's kind of you to offer, but I brought my own lunch. It's out in the truck."

"Are you sure? We're going to get Chinese take-out. We were hoping you could give us a quick run-down of what you found while we eat. Come on, that's gotta be better than a baloney sandwich in a brown paper bag, right?"

Leo gave her a broad grin. "I happen to like baloney sandwiches," he chuckled. "But if you'd let me steal a cup of coffee from you, I'd be very happy to sit with you over lunch and make my report."

"Done," Paige declared, closing the deal. "Uhh… how bad is it?"

"Not as bad as I thought," Leo assured her. "In fact, considering the age of the house, it's in great shape. But yes, I am going to recommend a number of repairs and replacements for you. Of course, once the house goes on the market, you might not have to make those repairs yourself. They could be factored into the sale conditions for the house, and they could be the new owner's headache."

"They might end up being our problems," Paige confided shyly. "We're kind of thinking of maybe keeping the house."

"I would, if I were you," Leo said without hesitation. "It's already a nice house, and with a little upkeep, it could be a beautiful home for another lifetime."

"I don't suppose you know anybody who could help us fix it up, cheap?"

Leo gave Paige a wide grin. "I just might," he answered.

While Paige and Leo were talking upstairs, Piper went to look for Phoebe, and found her collapsed again on the couch.

"I'm sorry," Phoebe murmured as Piper came into the room. "I barely slept last night, and it's starting to catch up with me."

"That's all right," Piper answered, sitting beside her. "We're going to stop for lunch soon. And then we're going to take a break. So you can park yourself wherever you like, and have a nice, long power nap."

"Thanks."

Piper cast a dubious glance at the small, battered light blue suitcase sitting in the entryway. "Is that all you brought?"

"That's all I own."

Piper felt a pang somewhere in her heart, but she kept her expression neutral with an effort. "Phoebe, how you live your life is your business," she said quietly. "But a vagabond's life is hard. Maybe at this point you should be considering other options."

"Like moving in with you and Paige?" Phoebe managed an exhausted smile.

"We'd be happy to have you. Whether we keep the house or not."

"You're really thinking of hanging onto this place?"

"The idea's growing on me," Piper said thoughtfully.

"Let me guess. Paige suggested it."

"She did," Piper nodded. "I'm not sure she's wrong."

Phoebe mulled that over for so long a time that Piper had almost decided she wasn't going to respond. But then Phoebe sighed sadly.

"I was so mean to her when we were kids," she confessed.

"You didn't exactly roll out the welcome wagon," Piper agreed.

"Do you think she hates me for that?"

"I think Paige loves you, and is willing to forgive almost anything for your sake."

"It's just…" Phoebe hesitated a moment, not entirely sure this was a can of worms she wanted to open. "I always felt like I had a head of glass around her, you know? She always seems to know what I'm thinking, even before I do. She was like that as a little kid, and she's still like that now. It's creepy."

"Paige has a unique awareness of how people feel," Piper said carefully. "And it's not creepy. It's a very rare and special gift. It's why she's chosen to go into social work. She has a natural aptitude for it."

"Yeah, well, I'd rather sort out my feelings for myself," Phoebe grumbled. "I want to decide how I feel, before my baby half-sister tells me how I'm feeling."

"Well, then, maybe you should tell her that."

"What, little Miss Clairvoyant doesn't already know?"

"Phoebe, Paige doesn't always know how you feel about everything. Sometimes with family, it's hard to see things as they really are."

"Tell me about it," Phoebe agreed glumly.

"If you're not comfortable with aspects of your relationship with Paige, don't be afraid to talk to her about it. She will listen. And I know the two of you can work things out. I know for a fact, nothing would make her happier than to have a good relationship with you. And frankly, we are very blessed to have a baby sister as sweet and kind as she is."

"Yeah, we are," Phoebe admitted. She sighed again. "I was never really mad at her. But I took everything out on her, because she was the one who was there." She paused, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. "How am I supposed to ask for forgiveness for that?"

"Maybe you don't start with forgiveness. Maybe you start with little things."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Like, offering to help her hang brand new wallpaper in her bedroom."

Phoebe burst out laughing. "That's not a little thing. That's a great big huge thing."

"Well, my point is, the two of you really haven't had a relationship - not as adults. Whatever kind of relationship you have with Paige now is going to depend less on what happened when you were six, and a lot more on what you do today."

Phoebe thought that over for a long moment. "Do you think she'll accept me?"

"Phoebe, this is Paige we're talking about. Do you really think she won't?"

Phoebe managed a wan smile. "And how about you and me? Are we good?"

Piper hesitated a moment before answering. "I wish you had come to Grams' funeral."

"Yeah," Phoebe agreed, with deep regret. "I wish I had too."

"That was one time when I really needed you to be here, Pheebs."

"Piper, I couldn't," Phoebe protested weakly. "I just couldn't. I tried so hard to get away from here, I had to give up everything just to escape. I didn't want to get sucked back in…"

Phoebe's voice trailed off as she saw Piper's stern glare; it wasn't angry, but it reflected a deep and bitter disappointment, which was somehow worse.

"Please don't stare at me like that," Phoebe pleaded in a barely audible voice.

Piper sighed heavily, and shifted her gaze away. "Was life here really that awful for you?"

"It wasn't anything like that," Phoebe answered. "I was just - frightened."

Piper frowned in puzzlement. "Frightened of what?"

"I don't know. That I would never get a chance to be my own person, to live my own life." Phoebe looked at Piper pleadingly. "Come on, Piper, didn't you ever feel like you were just, well, trapped here, and there was no way out?"

"Lots of times," Piper nodded. "More than you realize. But I also know, I'm stronger with my family than without them. They help make me the person I am. Including you."

Phoebe leaned back on the couch, thinking hard. After several moments, she looked back at Piper.

"I want to make this right," she declared. "I really do. I'm just not sure how."

Piper permitted her sister a slight smile. "You're smart, Phoebe. You'll figure it out."

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming down the stairwell. Paige burst into the room, a huge smile on her face.

"Leo's going to have lunch with us," she announced breathlessly. "So I'm gonna go pick up platters from Qi's."

Exuberantly, she leaned over the couch and put a stranglehold of a hug on Phoebe, and gave her an effusive kiss on the cheek. "I'm so glad you came home," she declared, and then as quickly as she'd come, she vanished into the foyer.

Piper and Phoebe stared at each other for a moment, bemused smiles on their faces. Then Phoebe had a happy epiphany.

"Hey, Paige?" Phoebe called out, still looking directly at Piper.

"Yeah?" Paige's voice floated in from somewhere near the front door.

"Hold on. I'll go with you."

Phoebe got up off the couch, but as she turned to go, she reached over and gave Piper's hand a quick squeeze.

"It's a little thing. See you soon," she said, and then hurried out of the room.

Piper leaned back on the couch, and after a moment, she heard the front door open, then close, and there was momentary silence in the house. Piper smiled to herself.

"It's a start," she said aloud, to no one in particular.


	6. Chapter 6

The first time Grams went to the hospital, no one in the family was unduly worried. The diagnosis was pneumonia, and it was serious, even life threatening, but easily treatable. Piper remembered vividly that late night, driving her Grams to the emergency room, and the long, exhausting days that followed. She even took a few days off work to spend more time at the hospital, while Grams went through her recovery.

Although Grams was discharged a few days later, she never quite seemed to shake the flu-like symptoms entirely, and less than four months after the first visit, she was back in the hospital again. A more detailed examination provided by a thoracic surgeon revealed the true cause: lymphoma, which had spread from the lymph nodes and metastasized in the chest cavity, causing fluid build-up around the lungs. Piper was aghast.

"How could this happen?" she demanded of her grandmother's doctors. "Why wasn't this caught months ago?"

The oncologist patiently explained that lymphoma was an extremely slow-growing cancer, which was often well established for months or even years before detectable symptoms appeared in the patient.

"Based on these results, I'd say she's had it for a least a decade," the oncologist said sadly.

At first, Piper was numb with shock; then she was frantic, then she was terrified, then she was all those things at once. She called her sisters in New York and Los Angeles. Paige flew back into San Francisco that same weekend, and did so almost every weekend afterwards to help out, arriving late Friday nights and flying home late Sunday.

"I've pretty much had it with LA," she confided to Piper, three weeks before Grams passed. "Any chance we might get a place together here?" Piper assured her there was every chance.

Phoebe did not visit from New York, but she called both Piper and Grams frequently, trying to share whatever cheer and positive thoughts she could with both of them.

Grams declined the available treatments, which, in fairness, were every bit as painful and debilitating as the disease itself. "They can keep me alive for another two years, so I can be sick the whole time?" Grams sniffed disdainfully. "What's the point of that?"

"The point is, I have you for two more years," Piper retorted, trying and mostly failing to hold back her tears.

Grams smiled tolerantly. "Sweetheart," she said solemnly, "I have been watching over you your entire life. And I'll still be watching over you after I'm gone. I know it's hard for you to understand right now, but love is the strongest magic of all."

Piper had wondered about that remark many times. At the time, she had attributed it to hypoxia, as Grams was beginning to show signs of disorientation and detachment; but now, having discovered the Book of Shadows, she could only wonder. Was Grams actually watching over her this very minute? What about her mother? Or her sister Prue? Grams believed in magic. Piper had held the evidence of that in her own hands. But what did that mean? Was magic real? And even if it was, what could it possibly do for Piper and her sisters now?

The slow progression of Gram's illness had one meager blessing entwined with it: grandmother and granddaughter bonded more strongly than ever before, and as the end approached, Piper was able to make her proper farewells while Grams could still hear and understand her. The stay in hospice was mercifully short: a mere three weeks, during which Piper felt as if she had aged twenty years.

There was a whirlwind of events after that, which Piper barely noticed, benumbed by grief. Accounts to be closed. Bills to be paid. Possessions to be catalogued and sold. Legal filings and death certificates. A funeral. At the end of it all, she felt neither sad nor angry; just utterly exhausted and empty. She remembered the same sense of emptiness only too well, from when she lost her mother and her sister. Piper's mind knew this was something to be passed through, but her heart felt otherwise. But when Paige arrived on Gram's doorstep, her lime green Volkswagen Beetle stuffed to the roof with her belongings, Piper had a glimmer of hope that the awful, aching emptiness could once again be filled with joy. And when that lime green car was shortly afterwards followed by a battered, well-traveled light blue suitcase, she was certain of it.


	7. Chapter 7

"We need to have a sleepover," Paige Matthews declared solemnly to her sisters. "You know, a proper slumber party. Sit around in jammies and drink hot cocoa and watch bad TV shows all night."

Phoebe Halliwell burst out laughing. "What, here? In Gram's house? Does the TV even work?"

"You're forgetting I don't have any sleepwear," Piper Halliwell pointed out. "All my stuff is at my apartment."

"You don't need to drive home. You can borrow a pair of mine," Paige said brightly.

The three sisters were still gathered around the dining room table, surrounded by a scattering of bright white cartons, now emptied of their savory Chinese dishes, along with paper plates, cups, chopsticks, and a small pile of papers left behind by Leo Wyatt, detailing both the needed and recommended repairs to the house.

The inventory of repairs was not as bad as Piper had feared, but it was still impressive. A new hot water heater was at the top of the 'must replace now' list, as the heating element had all but corroded away after many years use, and the tank itself was now lined with an disquieting amount of rust. The washer and dryer were assigned a similar fate. One of the bedrooms had faulty wiring. The far end of the front porch needed to have its cinderblock foundation rebuilt. The upstairs bathroom needed new fixtures. The radiators worked, but the oil tank in the cellar had only enough fuel for a few days and needed to be filled. Other recommendations followed, but they were not emergencies that required immediate attention. Phoebe had thrown down the papers in dismay.

"Do you think we're made of money?" she asked Leo angrily, despairing that home ownership might be forever beyond her reach, for the sake of a few household repairs and appliance replacements.

"You ladies are welcome to make whatever arrangements you like," Leo answered calmly. "But if you're actually going to take ownership of the house, these things need to be fixed before you move in."

"You said you might know someone who could help us?" Paige asked hopefully.

"Yeah. That would be me," Leo answered, somewhat self-consciously.

"You can do all this stuff?" Phoebe was suitably impressed.

"For how much?" Piper demanded suspiciously.

"At cost," Leo answered. "I get contractor rates with all the big building supply companies. And I won't charge for any labor, as long as you're willing to offer a cup of coffee now and then."

Piper thought she hadn't heard right. "You've got to be kidding."

"Leo, you have to get paid," Paige objected. "We can't let you work for free."

"I do get paid," Leo pointed out. "Home inspections are my day job. Home repairs are my hobby. Believe it or not, I do this for fun. I do a lot of work for charities on the weekends. I can set that aside for a couple of weekends, to help you get this place in good working order."

"You would do that for us?" Piper still couldn't quite believe it.

"Can't we throw in meals, or something?" Paige seconded. "Just so you get compensated in some way."

"I could be tempted to accept a few home cooked meals," Leo admitted with a shy smile.

"Why are you helping us?" Piper asked, her eyes tear bright. She was no longer suspicious, but simply overwhelmed with a feeling of gratitude.

Leo smiled somberly at Piper. "I know what it's like to lose someone," he said quietly. "And especially how right after it happens, how hard it is sometimes to even get out of bed in the morning. If I can help get you ladies back on your feet, and established in your new home, that would be payment enough for me."

"You're an angel," Phoebe gushed.

Leo's smile was surprisingly sad.

"Maybe one day," he said.

After Leo departed, the sisters had sat around the table, having what was probably the longest and most serious discussion of their adult lives: the prospect of owning their own home together. More prosaically, could they do so without killing one another after three days. To Piper's surprise, both her sisters were 'all in', as the expression went. So they spent another hour drawing up a crude working budget, based on what they knew they could expect for household repairs, utilities and taxes, as well as their own needs for groceries, clothing and other personal items. Then grimly, they figured in their own incomes. Piper already had her job as shift manager at a local restaurant. Paige was starting her new job with Bay Area Social Services in another week. Phoebe as yet had no job, but she pledged that she would be willing to kick in the entirety of any temp job salaries to the household, until their finances had stabilized.

It was now late afternoon, and Phoebe could barely keep her eyelids open.

"We can finish this discussion tomorrow, when you've had a chance to get some sleep," Piper declared.

"I don't want to miss anything," Phoebe protested, barely conscious.

"Honey, we promise, we won't make any family decisions without you," Paige assured her. "Pinky swear."

A brief discussion of sleeping arrangements followed, when Paige made the suggestion that they might as well stay in the house that very night, and make their presence in the Halliwell Manor official.

The sisters came up to the landing on the second floor. Phoebe solved the problem of picking rooms by stumbling into the smallest bedroom, which had at first belonged to her sister Prue, and closing the door behind her. She was asleep seconds after her head was on the pillow.

Piper and Paige peeked in, seeing Phoebe was more or less unconscious; they removed her shoes and covered her with a light blanket. Paige hurried downstairs, and returned from the kitchen a few moments later with a small pitcher of water and a drinking glass, which she left on the nightstand at Phoebe's bedside.

"Good thing we took off the dust covers earlier," she whispered to Piper, as they stepped out of the room and back into the hallway. Paige closed the door behind her.

"She'll be out all night," Piper smiled, shaking her head.

"It's only five-thirty," Paige said, checking her watch. "We don't have to turn in yet. If you don't mind helping me, we can probably unload the bug in two or three trips."

"Fine," Piper nodded. "Do you have any preference for bedrooms? Since Phoebe's obviously staked hers."

"I think you should have the master bedroom," Paige answered. "You're the oldest." She paused. "If sleeping in Gram's bed doesn't creep you out, that is."

"No," Piper said slowly. Her eyes began to tear. "I slept in that bed beside her every night for two weeks before we moved her into the hospice facility."

"Honey, if that's going to be hard for you, I can take Grams' room. Or I can spend the night with you."

"A true sleepover party," Piper grinned, blinking back tears. "It's fine, Paige. I can manage. And yes, I wouldn't mind having the master bedroom, if you're okay with that."

"It's yours," Paige declared. "But if I hear you crying in the middle of the night, I'm crawling into bed with you."

Piper pulled Paige close to her into a tight hug.

"I love you very much, Paige Matthews," she murmured, a single tear spilling down one cheek. "Just in case I forgot to tell you that today."

"I love you more," Paige countered, resting her head on her sister's shoulder.

"Love you most," Piper declared with all the solemnity of an oath. Their pact made, the sisters unofficially completed their move into their grandmother's house on Prescott street on a bleak mid-winter's night in late February, entirely unaware of the profound changes that decision was about to have on all their lives.


	8. Chapter 8

Piper rolled over onto her side, not entirely sure what had awakened her. The house seemed quiet. Feeble winter sunlight was barely penetrating the diaphanous mesh lace curtains over the bedroom window. The radiator was banging softly, but it was a dull, muted thunk that Piper was well accustomed to. She had turned on the heat before she'd gone to bed, and now belatedly realized that the radiators were likely filled with mostly air, and probably needed to be bled off. Still, the room seemed warm enough.

Looking over at the clock, Piper had to blink her sleep-swollen eyes several times to bring them back into focus. It was just past seven-thirty. The door to the bedroom was also wide open, she apparently hadn't remembered to shut it last night.

She inhaled deeply, as her body woke itself from its deep slumber; it had been a very long time since Piper had slept an entire night through. In fact, it was the first time in over a month she hadn't woken herself crying.

She looked around the bedroom somberly. Her grandmother's bed. Her grandmother's dresser, filled with her grandmother's clothes. Her grandmother's writing desk and chair. Her grandmother's nightstand. This wasn't Piper's room, not yet. Piper wondered idly how long it might take, before she stopped thinking of this space solely as her grandmother's room.

Deciding she wasn't going to fall asleep again, Piper sat up, scooted herself to the side of the bed, and let her legs dangle over the side. She could hear some slight movement out in the hallway - obviously either Paige or Phoebe was already awake. She looked dubiously at her bedclothes. Last night, Paige had given her a pair of dark blue pajamas, festooned with brightly colored cartoon rocket ships with yellow fuselages and red fins. She'd been too tired to notice when she'd gone to bed.

"She actually sleeps in these?" Piper asked herself, shaking her head slightly.

Piper stood up, and slowly stretched herself out; then, finally assured that her legs were awake enough to support her, she padded to the doorway. She could hear soft humming from just outside her bedroom door and grinned. Paige was constantly humming or singing just under her breath, just as she had done ever since she was a small child; and Piper had not only grown accustomed to that sound, she had come to recognize it as one of the great joys of her life.

She stepped out into the hallway, and Paige was just coming out of the doorway of her bedroom, already dressed in a simple white blouse over dark Capri pants and loafers. As she had done the day before, her dark hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail. She was carrying a carefully folded pair of grey sweats - a shirt and pants.

"Hey! You're finally up," she greeted her sister with a radiant smile. "I was beginning to wonder when you'd show yourself. How'd you sleep?"

"Like a rock," Piper admitted, still stretching out her back. "You?"

"Yeah. Me too. It felt really good, actually. Here. These are for you."

She handed the sweats to Piper.

"What's this for?" Piper asked.

"Well, the only clothes you have here are what you wore yesterday - you know, the grimy stuff you spent all day cleaning in," Paige reminded her. "You can either put those back on, or you can borrow these - they're not elegant, but at least they're clean. I thought that maybe after breakfast, we could take a quick run over to your apartment, and bring at least some of your clothes over here."

"What are we having for breakfast?" Piper asked, baffled. "There's nothing in the kitchen except things like, three year old boxes of stale macaroni shells."

"I've already been to the market," Paige informed her. "We have eggs, milk, butter, orange juice, sourdough bread and wheat bread. And fresh coffee. Phoebe's scrambling eggs for us right now."

"Oh. Wow. Sounds like you guys have everything covered." Piper nodded, and started to turn away, but then stopped herself. "Wait. Phoebe's cooking breakfast?"

"Hey, it's gotta be better than my cooking," Paige answered. "Seeing as I don't cook. But hey, if you really feel like being poisoned this morning, I can give it a whirl."

"No, thanks," Piper chuckled, knowing her sister would take no offense for deriding her lack of cooking skills. "I'm just surprised Phoebe volunteered. I guess there's something new under the sun every day, after all."

Piper returned to the bedroom, yawning expansively. She had just put the sweats down on the bed when Paige peeked her head around the doorframe.

"Oh, and Leo was right about the hot water," she cautioned. "We haven't got any. Brace yourself for a very cold and probably very short shower."

"Swell," Piper grumbled.

Less than fifteen minutes later, Piper came into the kitchen, wearing the sweats Paige had provided and still shivering from an icy, barely thirty seconds long birdbath. Paige saw the expression on her sister's face and merely grinned.

"I warned you," she said.

"Yes, you did," Piper agreed, seating herself at the dinette. "Okay, first thing we do after breakfast is call Leo, and tell him to replace the hot water heater, like, yesterday. That was not civilized."

She looked up to see Phoebe standing at the range, already piling scrambled eggs onto a plate. Her younger sister wasn't yet dressed, wearing just a t-shirt and a pair of well-worn pajama bottoms that she'd apparently changed into sometime during the night. Phoebe added two slices of toast with butter pats next to the eggs, and brought it to the table.

"Good morning," she said, putting the plate down in front of Piper.

"Thank you," Piper said, bemused at such royal treatment.

A moment later, Phoebe set a glass of orange juice and a mug of hot coffee next to Piper's plate. "I'm afraid we don't have any creamer for the coffee," she apologized. "I can get you some milk, if you like."

"I'll drink it black. Thanks."

Phoebe quickly set out plates for herself and Paige, and the three sisters tucked into their breakfast with gusto. Piper noted with pleased surprise that the eggs were excellent.

"This is really good, Phoebe."

"Thanks. I tried to get the eggs fluffy, just the way you like them. So, what's on the schedule for today?"

"More cleaning, I guess. And deciding what we're keeping, or throwing out."

"If you don't mind, I'd like to borrow Phoebe for a little while to work in the attic," Paige said.

Piper frowned. "The attic's hardly a priority, Paige."

"Yeah, I know, but I want to show Phoebe our inheritance."

Phoebe looked up from her plate in surprise. "We have an inheritance?"

Piper groaned and rolled her eyes. "Oh God, Paige, not that stupid book again."

"What stupid book?" Phoebe asked, looking from one sister to another. "What's going on?"

"It's nothing, it's…" Piper grimaced, and then sighed heavily. "Okay. Fine. If you want to show the book to Phoebe, go right ahead. But after that, we have a lot of real work to do around here."

"Come on, Piper, it's part of our family history," Paige said cajolingly. Piper simply made a ruff of disgust, and gave her attention entirely to her cup of coffee. Phoebe turned to Paige.

"What book? Did you guys find a family album, or a diary, or something?"

"Better than that," Paige grinned. "Phoebe, what would you say if I told you that mom and Grams were witches?"

"Witches," Phoebe repeated.

"Yeah."

"Real witches. Like, flying around on broomsticks, wearing black pointy hats?"

"Well, I don't know about the broomstick and hats part, but they really did practice witchcraft, yeah."

"No kidding." Phoebe seemed genuinely intrigued. "How did you find this out?"

"Piper and I found this big trunk up in the attic, and when we opened it, we found all this magic stuff inside - including a grimoire and a spirit board, with a message from mom to all of us."

"Oh, I have got to see this," Phoebe exclaimed excitedly, getting up from the table.

"Okay, give me a second, I'll show you." Paige hastily swallowed her last bite of egg and washed it down with a swig of orange juice. As she got up to follow Phoebe out of the kitchen, she leaned over Piper's chair.

"Come join us," she pleaded.

"Thanks, I've seen all of that book I want to see," Piper answered.

"Hey, you never know, maybe there's a spell in there to fix the water heater. And the washing machine. Worth a look, right?"

She gave Piper's shoulder a gentle squeeze, then hurried from the room.

Piper called after them, "Somebody forgot to clean up the dishes!"

Receiving no answer, Piper sighed deeply and took another sip of her coffee. "Oh, all right, I'll do it," she grumbled sourly.


	9. Chapter 9

"I can't believe, after all this time, I finally get to see the inside of the attic," Phoebe remarked as she and Paige headed up the stairs.

"I know, right?" Paige grinned. "And wait until you see it. It sure wasn't what I was expecting."

"I remember, Grams used to go up there, and lock the door behind her," Phoebe replied. "And I would kick the door, and yell and scream, but she would never let me in. Then I would sit on the top step and pout until she was done. There's probably still scuff marks from my shoes on the bottom of the door."

"Well, this door will never be locked to you again," Paige vowed, throwing open the door and gesturing that Phoebe should precede her inside.

Phoebe stepped in, and her mouth fell open in astonishment. "Oh, wow. It's - huge," she marveled, and then she shivered and rubbed her arms. "And really cold!"

"Yeah, no insulation up here," Paige agreed, flipping on the light. Winter light was filtering in from the bay window, but the interior was still fairly dim without the electric light.

Phoebe walked into the middle of the room and turned around slowly, taking it all in. "This could be another living room! I always thought the attic wouldn't be much bigger than a hall closet."

"Leo offered to insulate it for us, and put in a heater."

"We should take him up on that." She wandered over to the trunk. "Is this where you found all the magic stuff?"

"Yeah. Go ahead, Phoebe. You can open it."

Phoebe knelt down, and lifted the trunk lid. It opened with a slight creak, and then creaked again as the hinges latched. Phoebe reached inside and pulled out the grimoire.

"Oh, my," she exclaimed excitedly. "This is amazing!"

She sat down cross-legged on the floor, and let the heavy book balance between her knees.

"This thing is practically a piece of furniture by itself. It weighs a ton."

"Yeah," Paige agreed. "We should get a stand for it. Go ahead, take a look inside."

Phoebe opened the grimoire carefully, as her sisters had done before her; and flipped through the first few pages in a mixture of astonishment and curiosity.

"There's no way mom or Grams wrote this," she commented. "It's too old."

"How old do you think it is?" Paige asked, sitting down beside her sister.

"No idea," Phoebe shook her head, a wide grin slowly spreading across her face.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, it's just - a lot of things are making sense to me now. If mom and Grams really were witches - well, let's just say, it explains a lot."

"Yeah, I've been playing a few rounds of connect-the-dots myself, ever since Piper and I found it."

"If this book is as old as it looks, then maybe mom and Grams weren't the only witches in the family."

"You mean our great-grandma?"

"Maybe even further back than that." She pointed to one of the pages she had turned to, it was distinctly yellower and more brittle than the others, and the ink so faded she had to squint to read it. "This page here had to have been written more than a century ago. Look at the spelling. It's like from the 1800s. Maybe even earlier." She flipped through a few more pages. "And it's not the same person writing, either. Different spellings, different hands. This book must have been passed down from family to family for - well, a really long time."

As Phoebe turned over another page, a standard size letter envelope slipped out from between the pages and fluttered to the floor. Paige picked it up.

"What is it?" Phoebe asked.

Paige drew in a sharp breath. "Oh, my God," she murmured. "It's a letter from Grams. To us."

"Seriously?"

She held up the envelope so Phoebe could see the writing.

"For Piper, Phoebe and Paige," Phoebe read aloud. "And yep, that's Gram's hand. And that weird purple ink she always wrote with. Really. Who writes anything with purple ink?"

"Our grandmother," Paige said proudly.

"What's it say?"

The envelope was not sealed; Paige lifted the flap and carefully shook out the paper inside. The note was carefully handwritten in cursive, also in purple ink, but the unevenness of the letters suggested a shaky hand. Paige held the paper up, so Phoebe could see while she read aloud.

"To my beautiful darling granddaughters," Paige read. "If you have found this letter, and you have found the Book of Shadows, then it is time for you to receive the legacy your mother and I have prepared for you. On the page where I have placed this letter, you will find a spell. It has been written especially for the three of you, to restore the gifts that are your birthright."

Paige and Phoebe exchanged a dubious glance, before Paige continued: "You must follow the instructions precisely as written, and then speak aloud the words at the bottom of the page, all three of you, together. I'm sure you have many questions. And I wish with all my heart I could be there with you, to guide you properly into your heritage. I could not share this knowledge with you when you were younger. I suspect now I will not live long enough to share it with you at all, and knowing that breaks my heart. There are demons in the shadows, my darlings, and they are very real, and very dangerous. Read the book. Learn from its wisdom. Above all, look after one another, love each other. You are, each of you, a precious, irreplaceable gift to your sisters. I can only hope that one day, you will be able to forgive me for taking from you what is rightfully yours, for your own protection. Your mother and I love you always, and forever. Grams."

Paige found herself blinking back tears. Phoebe mulled over the words from her grandmother in complete bemusement.

"Okay," she said finally. "That was… really sweet, and really weird."

Paige sniffed discreetly, and wiped away a tear with the back of her hand. "She said she left us a spell, let's see it."

Phoebe had left the book open to the page where the letter had fallen out. "To unbind a witch's powers," she read haltingly from the top of the page, and then stopped. "Wait, what? Does that mean we're witches, too?" Her mouth fell open in a delighted laugh. "Oh, my God! I can't believe I'm actually reading this!"

"What does it say we need to do?"

"This is hilarious. It's written like a recipe! Okay, first we need some chalk… where are we going to find chalk?"

"Hang on," Paige said, scrambling to her feet. "I never did get a chance to finish emptying this chest. Let's see what else is in here."

She quickly began to pull items out of the chest, and lay them out on the floor, beside herself and Phoebe. The spirit board. An athame in a leather scabbard, inside a red felt drawstring bag. Several candles of various sizes and lengths. A box of chalk sticks. Two silver bowls - one wide and shallow, the other almost goblet-shaped.

"Damn," Phoebe whistled low. "Those are real silver. They must be worth a fortune."

"I think they're meant to be used as cauldrons," Paige said uncertainly, and Phoebe laughed again, nervously.

Paige pulled out another wooden box, not unlike a jeweler's box, but it was filled with glass vials containing different colored liquids and powders, along with several packets of incense. Another box was filled with what almost looked like pieces of costume jewelry, labeled "amulets and talismans". These were followed in turn by a mortar, a pestle, and a tube-shaped Cim bucket filled with Chi Chi sticks. The missing planchette for the spirit board was hiding beneath the mortar. Finally, Paige pulled from the very bottom of the chest an ancient and evidently well-used deck of Tarot cards.

The sisters stared at the arrangement of artifacts for a long time in complete bewilderment and amazement, and then looked at one another, bursting into peals of helpless laughter.

Downstairs in the kitchen, Piper had finished cleaning the breakfast dishes - in icy dishwater - then dried them, and put them away in the cupboards. Her mind was beginning to churn, thinking how she might want to reorganize the cabinets for her own use. As she put the last few items away, she thought she could faintly hear laughter coming from somewhere upstairs. Curious, she dried her hands on a clean dish towel, and then walked over to the stairwell.

From where she stood at the foot of the stairs, she could hear her sisters conversing in excited tones - but she was too far away to make out any of the words. Wondering what they could possibly be discussing with such interest, she hurried up the steps - only to find her sisters were nowhere to be found on the second floor. Another peal of laughter told Piper that her sisters were up in the attic. She quickly ran up the last flight of steps.

As she entered the attic, she stared in bewilderment at the sight of her sisters, apparently in the process of casting a spell. Paige was kneeling on the floor, inside a large chalk circle, and on the inside of the circle she had marked out a large pentagram. Phoebe was standing beside her, holding the massive Book of Shadows in her arms.

"I'm telling you, Phoebe, that's East," Paige was saying. "I promise, it's East."

"Okay, just as long as we have the top pointing in the right direction. The book says if the pentagram is inverted, it invites evil into the house."

They both looked up to see Piper staring at them.

"Hey, Piper," Paige greeted her with a meek voice.

"What are you doing?" Piper asked.

"We're, uhh… well, Phoebe and I were just about to call you. We need your help… casting a spell."

"A spell," Piper repeated tonelessly. "A spell to do what, exactly?"

"To receive our powers," Phoebe couldn't help giggling nervously as she answered.

"We found a letter from Grams," Paige tried to explain, getting to her feet. "Apparently, all three of us have magical powers, and Grams bound our powers when we were kids to protect us. From demons," she added, after a moment's hesitation.

"We're witches," Phoebe added, barely managing to keep from laughing out loud.

Piper stared at her two sisters in dumbfounded amazement, then slowly shook her head. "My sisters are insane," she muttered to herself. "You two are insane! I leave you alone for five minutes, and immediately you start marking pentagrams on the floor and casting spells? Seriously, are you nuts?"

"We haven't cast a spell yet," Phoebe objected.

"This particular spell needs all three of us to work," Paige seconded.

"That's not the point, Paige! This is loony! There's no such thing as magic, and we are NOT witches!"

"But Grams -"

"Grams, nothing! Yes! She thought she was a witch. So did mom. But guess what? That doesn't make them witches! It just means they were crazy!" Realizing she was nearly shouting, Piper halted herself, then sighed deeply. "And crazy runs in the family, apparently."

"Piper, I know this looks weird," Paige pleaded. "But we really did find a letter from Grams. It's really from her, addressed to all three of us. And - you really need to read it."

She retrieved the letter and held it out to Piper, who finally took it. She scanned the first few lines, then looked up at Paige in open-mouthed dismay.

"Go on," Paige urged her quietly. "Read the rest."

Piper sank down into one of the upholstered chairs, still under its dust cover, and carefully read the entire note, top to bottom. After reading it, she sat there, one hand clutching the paper, the other hand clamped over her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. Paige knelt beside her.

"Honey, are you okay?" she asked in a worried voice.

"No, Paige, I am not okay," Piper answered, her voice low and choked. "Nothing about this is okay." She was clearly fighting back tears. Phoebe put the book down on the floor and knelt beside Piper on the other side of the chair.

"Sweetie, what's the matter? Why are you so upset?" Phoebe ran her hand along Piper's arm, stroking her, intending to comfort. "You don't really think we've gone off the deep end playing make-believe … do you?"

Paige looked at Phoebe, then back at Piper, then back to Phoebe again.

"No," she said quietly. "She's not upset because she thinks we're crazy. She's scared, because she knows that magic is real. That's right, isn't it, honey?"

Piper glared at Paige, but not in anger; huge tears began spilling down her cheeks.

"Ever since we found the Book of Shadows, you've been trying to pretend we didn't," Paige murmured softly. "You've done everything you can, to put it out of your mind completely. Something's been bothering you, Piper, for a long time now. Why don't you tell us what it is, and let us help you."

Piper let out a ragged sigh, and then irritably wiped away her tears with the palms of her hands. She sat quietly for several moments, clearly trying to gather the courage to speak her thoughts aloud. Her sisters waited patiently.

"Yeah. It's real." Piper's voice was barely audible.

Phoebe frowned in puzzlement. "Wait, so, magic's real? And, we're really witches? But that's a good thing, right? Doesn't that mean we get to do really cool stuff?"

"What is it, honey?" Paige urged gently.

"Grams isn't lying about the demons." Again, Piper's voice was so low her sisters could barely hear her. Phoebe and Paige exchanged a worried glance.

"How do you know?"

Piper looked at both her sisters, her eyes wide and very sober. "Because I think mom and Prue were killed by one."


	10. Chapter 10

A few minutes later, the sisters had reconvened in the living room. Piper sat on the long couch, still distraught but less tearful. Phoebe watched her anxiously from a nearby chair. Paige came into the room with a large mug in her hands.

"Here you go," she said, handing the mug to Piper. "Chamomile tea. Should calm your tummy if nothing else."

"Thanks, Paige." Piper smiled gratefully.

Paige settled onto the couch beside her sister. "It might be a little stale," she warned. "We haven't really had a chance to clean out the pantry yet."

"I'm sure it's fine. Thank you."

She took a sip, and nodded appreciatively.

"So, why do you do think mom and Prue were killed by a demon?" Phoebe asked. Her voice seemed tight and choked.

Piper took another sip from the mug and set it on the coffee table before answering. "Ever since Paige and I found that book, I don't know, it kind of stirred up some old memories," she confessed. "A lot of things I thought I'd forgotten. Weird stuff I couldn't explain as a kid, but makes perfect sense now. In fact, it could only make sense if mom and Grams really were witches."

She sighed heavily. "Paige, the lake trips were before your time, but Phoebe probably still remembers them."

Phoebe nodded somberly.

"Every summer, we would spend at least two weeks in these beautiful cabins upstate. They were only a few yards from the lake. The first couple of trips we took were with mom and dad. After they divorced, mom still took us, by herself."

Phoebe shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Although removed from the event by almost two decades, she still had ugly memories of that horrible day. Piper noted her sister's discomfiture sympathetically.

"Mom loved that place. But I have no memory of her ever actually getting in a boat of any kind. Sure, she would get her feet wet at the shoreline, playing with us. But that's about all. And now that I think about it, I can't ever even remember her swimming past the dock."

Piper leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. She no longer saw the table in front of her; her eyes lost focus and it was clear that she was re-living a traumatic memory.

"I remember waking up that morning, and mom and Prue were just… gone. There was no hint of any problem the night before. At least, nothing my eight year old self remembers. We had toasted marshmallows at the campfire, then we went to bed. But when I woke the next morning…"

Piper hesitated a long moment before continuing. Finally, she let out a ragged sigh. "Any time before this, and I would have thought my subconscious was playing tricks on me. I felt… a presence. Something totally evil. Malevolent. Like it was sitting on my chest and crushing me under its weight. And I could sense it laughing. I don't mean that I heard it. It wasn't a sound. But somehow I sensed this laughter… it was delighted that it had managed to do something to hurt me and my family. Not happy. Triumphant. It was taunting me. I was too young to understand that. I was just scared. And… I don't know how I know this either, but… whatever this thing was - it lived - maybe still lives - in the water. Every sense I had of it was rippled, distorted, kind of like what you would see, if you look up towards the sky when you're underwater."

"Oh, my God, Piper," Paige swallowed hard.

"I felt like I couldn't move, couldn't breathe, and I think Phoebe felt it too."

Phoebe's eyes were filling with tears. Like her sister had done earlier, she had clamped a hand over her mouth to keep herself from crying out.

"But you didn't actually see or hear anything," Paige sought to clarify.

Piper shook her head. "No. For years, I just thought, this was my brain trying to process the event. I was eight years old. My mother and sister had died. One night, they were there, we were laughing and happy, and the next morning - they were just… gone."

Piper picked up her mug again and sipped it slowly, trying desperately to keep her emotions under control.

"I didn't want to believe it," she said, almost talking to herself now, instead of her sisters. "And then we found the book, and I was confronted with this inescapable evidence that this whole world of witchcraft and demons might actually be real. And I couldn't deal with it. Because it meant that what I felt that day wasn't my imagination. It wasn't my brain sorting out a traumatic event. It means that what I remember from that day actually happened. It's a real memory. Something totally evil killed our mom and our sister. I can only guess now, it has to be some sort of demon."

"But why? That's what I don't get. Why would it want mom and Prue?"

"I have no idea," Piper shook her head sadly. "I never told you guys this, but I went and looked at the police reports from the events about three years ago. Usually, even with an accidental drowning, there's a fair amount of details in the records. But not in this case. The witness statements, the coroner's report - everything was as bare-bones as possible."

Paige frowned. "You don't think someone's covering up what really happened, do you?"

"I think if anyone knows what really happened, they weren't willing to say."

Paige glanced over at Phoebe, who had been gradually shrinking herself down into an ever tighter ball of misery. She was staring away from them, towards the atrium.

"Phoebe, you okay?"

When Phoebe didn't immediately answer, Paige got up off the couch and sat on the arm of the chair. She reached over and gently began to rub Phoebe's shoulders. Phoebe let a choked sob escape, then buried her head in her arms.

"Oh, honey," Paige murmured sadly. She leaned over and hugged Phoebe from behind.

"She remembers," Piper said somberly. "In some ways, I think it was probably worse for Phoebe. She was only six when it happened."

The conversation halted for a few moments, as Paige continued to hug Phoebe, who was sobbing quietly.

"Sorry," Phoebe croaked, finally lifting her head. "I just kind of hit a double whammy there."

"Double?" Paige frowned, not understanding. She resumed rubbing her sister's shoulders.

"I - never mind. It's not important."

Piper took a sip from her mug, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Why did you come back, Phoebe?" She asked quietly. "When I talked to you a few days ago, you were adamant that you were staying in New York. What made you change your mind?"

Phoebe uncurled herself slightly in the chair. She reached up her hand towards her shoulder, and clasped her baby sister's hand tightly. Piper had asked her a similar question the night before, and she had deflected it intentionally - but not today.

"Right after you'd called me that night, I went straight to bed," Phoebe recalled, her voice almost toneless. "And - I just woke up the next morning, and knew that something was horribly wrong. It wasn't that I'd lost my job, or that dad didn't want to see me. Those things hurt, but - this was different. This was…" she paused, searching for the right words. "I felt like I had been asleep for a very long time, and all of a sudden, I had woken up for real. Like I had been living a dream. Like I was under a sp…" she faltered on the word. "Under a spell," she finished at last. "It scared me. Really scared me. And I just knew, I had to come home. To find you guys. I had no idea why I even got on the plane - at the time. Now, I think I know why - and I'm even more scared."

"Oh, trust me, you're not the only one who's scared," Piper assured her. "Right now, my creep-o-meter is all the way up to eleven, and the dial only goes to ten."

"So, what do we do, Piper?" Paige asked. "You don't think this thing in the lake is still around… do you?"

"I think there's a larger issue here that we need to address first."

"Which is?"

"Let's assume for sake of argument that everything in that letter is actually true. That we're all witches, and Grams bound our powers when we were little to protect us from demons. The spell she wants us to cast will restore those powers to us. We'd be able to conjure magic. The question is - what else happens, if we flip that switch back to the 'on' position?"

Phoebe and Paige exchanged a worried glance.

"You think we shouldn't cast the spell?" Paige asked.

"I think, before we do anything else, we should read the fine print on this inheritance of ours," Piper answered solemnly.

"You think mom and Prue were killed because of it?"

"But why?" Phoebe asked. "Even if we can cast spells, so what? What would demons want with us? We're not that special - are we?"

"Let's see if we can find out," Piper said. "Paige, would you please bring the Book of Shadows down from the attic?"

"Sure." Paige got up from her seat.

"Grams says, read the book. So let's read it. And find out what we're really dealing with here."

"What if it's all true?" Phoebe asked quietly.

"Then we have some very important decisions to make," Piper replied grimly. "Far more important than property taxes or replacing broken water heaters."

Paige hurried from the room to retrieve the book.

"I'm having a hard time believing we're even having this conversation," she confessed to Phoebe. "I kinda always knew our family was crazy, but this…" she shook her head, still not accepting if no longer disbelieving. "Magic. Witches and demons. Curses and spells. What the hell are we supposed to do with all that?"

Phoebe had grabbed a facial tissue and wiped her face. She smiled sadly at her sister. "What else can we do?" she shrugged helplessly. "When crazy runs in the family, we run with crazy."


	11. Chapter 11

A few minutes later, Paige returned to the living room, almost staggering under the weight of the Book of Shadows.

"We need a forklift for this thing," she panted, setting it down on the coffee table with a heavy thump.

"That is one big book," Phoebe declared, still awestruck by the grimoire's size.

"Yes, it is," Piper agreed with a sigh. "This could take awhile."

She pulled the book closer to her, more in the center of the coffee table. By unspoken consent, Paige and Phoebe piled onto the couch, on either side of Piper. Piper carefully opened the book and turned past the first page.

"This could take days, or weeks, to read through the entire thing," Phoebe objected.

"Why don't we just start flipping through the pages?" Paige suggested. "We already know what we're not looking for. Let's skip ahead, until we find something we can actually use."

Piper shot a questioning glance at Phoebe, and she nodded her agreement. Piper began to turn the pages over, one at a time, pausing only long enough for all three of the sisters to scan the title. Some of pages simply had text, either written in cursive or inked with calligraphy, although a few had hastily scribbled notes of a clearly more impromptu variety. Some of the pages were painstakingly illustrated with breath-taking watercolor illustrations and borders, others were as plain as chalk. It also became evident that the book was not organized in any orderly fashion; its legion of authors apparently just picked any blank page that suited them, and started writing about whatever magical topic concerned them. As the pages turned, the sister passed over love potions, curses, enchantments, classifications of demons and lesser magical creatures, cures for any number of minor ailments - there seemed to be no subject under the sun that didn't have a magical aspect.

Phoebe caught Piper's hand.

"Go back a page," she requested.

Piper turned the previous page back.

"The Prophecy of the Charmed Ones," Piper read aloud, "Being an account as told to Cassandra Wentworth by her cousin, Elizabeth Warren."

Piper frowned at Phoebe. "Seriously? You want to look at ancient prophecies now?"

"Read it, Piper, please," Phoebe pleaded.

Shrugging her shoulders, Piper relented. "All right." She pulled the heavy book up onto her lap, so that she could read the spidery, nearly faded ink on the page.

"By the grace of God we pray these words endure," Piper read haltingly, having to squint closely at the page. "This being an account firstly of our grandmother, Melinda Warren, hereinafter known as the founder of the Warren line of witches."

Piper looked up from the page. "Do we have any Warrens in our family tree? The name sounds familiar."

"Yeah, we do," Paige nodded. "Keep reading."

Piper returned to squinting at the yellowed paper. "Our grandmother was born on the thirty-first day of October, in the year of our Lord 1670, in the colony of Virginia; but was taken as an infant to Salem, Massachusetts, to save her from the demons who sought to end her life. Melinda was raised in good family, pious before God, and worshipful before His many blessings. Melinda was known to have possessed many powers, denied to warlocks and other witches who seek only to do evil in the world. She could see into men's hearts and know their true aspect. She had visions of things to come, and things past, hidden from men's eyes by the forces of darkness. She could start fires with her gaze and move objects by looking upon them. She could prolong a summer's day well into the next. The good people of Salem knew this of Melinda but did not fear her, as her aspect was of a godly woman and she showed all reverence before the Lord and His works. When she was of age, she was married to William Jackson, and they had one daughter, Prudence -"

"Gee, where have we heard that name before?" Phoebe murmured.

"Hush, Phoebe, you made me lose my place," Piper scolded gently. She frowned at the page again. "Prudence, who is the mother of Elizabeth, one of the authors of this account. In Melinda's twenty-eighth year, she met Matthew Tate, a sorcerer and man of great evil, in league with demons and dark powers. He hardened the hearts of the people against our grandmother and made them fear her. Our grandmother cursed Tate, and banished his spirit to a pewter locket, where he shall remain in damnation for all eternity. But as she trapped the monster, the fruit of his evil was borne, and the good people of Salem, blinded by his treachery, took our grandmother bound to be burnt at the stake. She made confession before the Lord and gave the prophecy. The Warren line of witches will continue for generations, growing stronger and stronger, until the arrival of three sisters, who will possess all the powers of magic at their full. By the grace and blessing of God, these good witches will vanquish demons and all other forms of evil, and be protectors of the innocent. They will be known as the Charmed Ones."

Piper paused for a moment, not wanting to ponder the implications of what she'd just read. After taking a deep breath, she read the last few lines.

"We do not blame the good people of Salem for our grandmother's death, for we know they were under a spell, and could not speak with their own true voices. May it please God, their actions will not be held against them at the judgment. We do not think it heresy to write words we know to be true, and we pray in fullness of time these words will be received by any who worship truth and righteousness before the Lord."

Piper looked up from the book and sighed. "Well, that was a lot of bowing and scraping before the divine."

"That was the time," Phoebe said thoughtfully. "Everyone thought and acted like that back then."

"And you really think we're these… Charmed Ones?"

Phoebe shrugged. "How do we know we're not?"

Piper closed the book, and put it back on the coffee table.

"No," she said with finality. "Not having it. No way. I'm having a hard enough time accepting the fact that I might be a witch. I am not accepting that I'm, like, the rock star of all witches on top of that."

"Honey, we don't know for certain that prophecy means us," Paige pointed out. "I mean, technically, we're just three of four sisters. It could be meant for somebody else."

"Yeah, but wouldn't it be wild if that was meant for us?" Phoebe asked.

"I don't know," Paige shook her head. "I guess I never even thought about it. How are witches supposed to act? Is there a dress code? Do we have to dance naked under the moon during sabbats and stuff like that?"

"You guys realize, the more you discuss this, the more you're putting me off, right?" Piper groused.

"So, does this mean we inherit Melinda's powers?" Phoebe wondered. "I mean, the prophecy doesn't actually say that, but…"

As the sisters sat together pondering, Piper's cell phone began warbling from where it had been left in the kitchen. Piper gasped, startled by the sudden noise.

Paige touched her arm. "It's okay, Piper, I'll get it," she said, quickly standing up. "It's just Leo, calling to see if we're ready for some hot water."

"See?" Phoebe pointed at Paige. "That right there. How do you even know that?"

"I dunno," Paige shrugged. "I just do. Back in thirty seconds."

She trotted into the kitchen, put the handset to her ear and thumbed the call button. "Hey, Leo."

"Hello, is this Paige?"

"Hey, you remembered me. I'm flattered."

Leo chuckled. "Of course I remember you. I was just kind of expecting Piper to answer her own phone."

"Yeah, well, she's a little tied up at the moment. But she asked me to tell you, you're hired, and could you please have a hot water heater installed over here yesterday?"

Leo chuckled again. "Well, yesterday's a bit of a stretch. But I can have one installed this afternoon, if that's not inconvenient for you."

"It's not inconvenient at all. We'll make sure somebody's here at the house to let you in. Thanks, Leo!"

She intentionally hung up on the call, not wanting to prolong the conversation when there was a far more interesting conversation going on in the living room. She quickly returned and announced excitedly, "Sisters, tonight we have hot water."

"Thank God," Piper groaned. "That's the first piece of good news I've heard all morning."

"So, what are we going to do now?" Phoebe asked.

"About what?" Piper frowned.

"This!" Phoebe pointed at the book.

"Nothing," Piper said firmly. "At least, nothing right now. I need some time to think about this."

"Maybe that's not a good idea," Paige suggested timidly.

Piper looked up at her and frowned in puzzlement. "How do you mean?"

"Well, if what you suspect is true, that mom and Prue really were killed by a demon, maybe the reason has something to do with that prophecy."

"What, that demons were trying to keep the prophecy from being fulfilled?" Phoebe asked.

"Grams said in her letter that the demons were real," Paige said somberly. "I don't think she was being metaphorical."

"You're suggesting there's a danger in not casting the spell?" Piper asked.

"Piper, I don't know," Paige sighed. "But we found that book like we were guided to it. Phoebe came home, when she swore never to set foot in this house again. There are just too many things happening that can't all be coincidence."

Piper sat on the couch, wringing her hands anxiously. She looked at Phoebe questioningly.

"I remember that day at the lake just like you do," Phoebe said quietly. "We didn't just make that up, Piper. Something really bad happened out there. And I wonder now, if the park rangers hadn't found us when they did, then maybe…" she broke off, unable to complete the thought. "Maybe the demons didn't have any need to come after us, as long as I was so far away," she said finally. "But now… I don't want to risk something like that happening again. Not ever."

Piper sat for a long time, thinking hard.

"Okay," she said at last. "We'll do it."

Phoebe and Paige looked at one another, not sure if they should be elated or terrified - or maybe both. Piper held up a hand.

"Not yet," she pleaded. "If I'm going to completely lose my mind and embrace my Wicca destiny, then first I'm going to go home and at least put on some proper clothes."

"What, you can't be Charmed in sweat pants?" Phoebe grinned.

"Ha, ha," Piper grumped. "You're hilarious, Pheebs. All right, you two make sure everything else is ready for the spell. Double check everything. Triple check it. And I want you both to pinky swear you're not going to try casting any spells until I get back."

"I promise," Paige agreed immediately.

After a moment's hesitation, Phoebe sighed. "Yeah. Fine. I pinky swear too."

"Good." She looked at them both, worry clearly written all over her face. "This is serious, you guys. We can't treat it lightly. We need to learn what we're doing, before we do it. Whatever we do could have real consequences. For all of us."

"It could also be the start of something amazing," Phoebe countered.

"I really hope so," Piper nodded. "But I have to be honest. This scares me. It scares me a lot. And if you're smart, it should really scare you, too."

"Knowledge and reverence," Paige said quietly.

"Sorry, what?"

"That's the answer to fear. Knowledge and reverence. I saw it in the book somewhere."

"Okay, well, you have twenty minutes to make yourselves as knowledgeable and reverent as you can," Piper informed them. "After that…" she paused. "After that, we'll know one way or another, if we're really meant to be Charmed."


	12. Chapter 12

Piper's apartment was only a short drive from the manor. In some respects, Piper had never really left home. Even after both of her sisters had gone, Piper kept a small, one bedroom unit barely five blocks from her grandmother's house, telling herself that it would be easier for her to take care of Grams while still having a place of her own. It seemed like such a futile exercise now, as Piper had ended up more or less living back at the manor, caring for her Grams in ever increasing amounts as the old woman began to decline. As she pulled into the parking garage, Piper was suddenly aware that she was genuinely angry. There was a seething rage bubbling just under the surface of her calm demeanor, and it surprised her somewhat. She wasn't entirely sure who she was angry with, or why.

As she often did when confronted with such strong emotions in herself, Piper did what she did best: she suppressed. She forced her mind to concentrate instead on all the tasks she needed to do right now, beginning with, changing her clothes and packing a small suitcase. She entered her apartment and flipped on the light switch.

No, she wouldn't miss this place, not really. Although she had moved her few belongings into this tiny space - a living room, a kitchen, a bedroom and a bath - it had never felt like home. She was sort of camped out in some nether space, not entirely at home and not away from it either. As she shrugged herself out of her clothes, she did make one change to her plans - a quick five minute shower with real hot water. The decision was a good one. She felt considerably more human after she had treated herself to this luxury. Strange, she thought, how something so mundane could provide so much comfort.

She quickly put on a black t-shirt and her favorite pair of jeans and lugged out a small suitcase from the closet. She put in a half-dozen sets of her favorite outfits, and a collection of the toiletries and personal items she used most often. She would have to come back later, with Phoebe and Paige, and empty the place properly. But that could wait for another day. For now, all she needed was enough to get by for the next few days.

As she closed the suitcase, she was suddenly overcome by a sense of intolerable loss, and abruptly sat down on the edge of the bed. She was accustomed to grief overtaking her at odd intervals, when she least expected it; but this was something else. It had to do with her grandmother, certainly, and now she was suddenly aware of who she was really mad at.

"What the hell, Grams," she said aloud. "Why didn't you tell me?"

She waited for a moment, not expecting an answer, but because she was expecting another eruption of real rage - she could feel it building up inside her.

"I get that you were sick. But you couldn't have told me something? I had to find out like this?" Her voice was raising, even though she was only conversing with mute pieces of furniture in her bedroom. "You couldn't have mentioned even ONCE that you and mom were witches, that my sisters and I are witches? And that demons are going to try to kill us? How am I supposed to deal with all this, without you? How am I supposed to deal with anything? Why did you LEAVE me?!"

She burst into tears, and dropped her face into her hands, her whole body shaking with heartbroken sobs.

She cried for several minutes, until the paroxysm of her grief momentarily exhausted her. Finally, she drew in a ragged breath, found a facial tissue and blew her nose, wiped her face with a warm washcloth and stared dully at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She barely recognized herself. The young woman staring back at her was not the person she remembered - and it wasn't just her grief-stricken aspect. Something in her had irremediably changed.

And then, a slight flutter of motion caught her eye, just at the periphery of her vision.

Startled, she turned, and standing not five feet away from her - if standing was the right word in this case - a large, pale shadow, a smudge of semi-transparent oily blackness shimmering in the air - with two small, unblinking, glowing red eyes. Piper's mouth fell open in astonishment.

"What the hell?" She murmured.

The creature did not seem to be moving, apart from the rhythmic undulations of its body. It was apparently merely staring at her. Piper was too surprised to be frightened - but something about the creature's presence was unnerving. Cautiously, Piper stepped out into the bedroom. The creature did not give ground, but it shifted its position slightly, so that it continued to face Piper.

"Who are you? What are you?"

Piper's questions went unanswered. The shadow creature mutely stared at her, making neither move nor sound.

Piper backed away slowly, leaning just far enough over the bed to grab her suitcase. The apparition made no move as she did so. Piper wondered briefly if she were seeing a real ghost for the first time - and then dismissed the thought, as there was nothing remotely human about her visitor. She continued to back away slowly, making for the front door. The creature stirred itself slightly, and almost lazily began to follow her.

Not taking her eyes off the creature, Piper reached behind her for the doorknob. Once she clasped it, she turned it and opened the door - and the creature lunged for her, its eyes suddenly blazing with fierce red light. With a shriek of terror, Piper slammed the door with a loud bang in the creature's face.

Heart pounding, Piper turned and ran down the hallway as fast as her legs could carry her. She glanced behind her only once, half-expecting to see the creature following her. The hallway was empty, but Piper did not slow her panicked flight. She returned to the garage, flung her suitcase into the back seat of her car, and gunned the engine before she had even closed the driver's side door or put on her seat belt. In moments, she was racing back towards the manor.

Upstairs in the attic, Phoebe and Paige had marked out the last traces of the pentagram and had enclosed the chalk circle with a slightly larger circle of candles, placed at nine more or less equidistant points surrounding the pentagram. The two sisters were consulting the grimoire closely.

"Okay, that should be it," Paige declared, after having read through the instructions for a fifth time. "All's that left for us to do is, light the candles, starting with the one at the top of of the pentagram, and light the rest clockwise, one after the other. Then all three of us stand inside the circle and repeat the spell at the bottom of the page."

"And then we become witches?" Phoebe grinned.

"I think we always were witches," Paige answered. "I'm guessing it's something we're born with. This is an unbinding spell. Of course, we could be completely wrong about this," she cautioned. "Grams never actually used the word, 'witch', in her letter."

"But what else could she mean?" Phoebe pointed out. "What other kind of inheritance can you have, where you have to cast a spell in order to receive it?"

"Good point," Paige agreed.

"So the real question is, are we 'just' witches, or are we super-witches?"

"Does that matter?"

Phoebe paused, surprised by the question. "I don't know," she answered. "I guess I don't really know what it means to be a witch. Up until yesterday, I would have thought witches were make-believe."

"Yeah, I have no idea, either," Paige nodded. "I think that's why Piper is so worried. It's a big can of worms to open. Especially when you don't know exactly what's going to come crawling out of the can."

Phoebe sat with the book in her lap, staring at it thoughtfully.

"If you and Piper are right, it means that someone killed mom and Prue for what's in this book," she said somberly.

"Well, maybe not the book," Paige said, sitting cross-legged on the floor beside her. "It could have been an attempt to prevent the Charmed coven from forming. But all we have is speculation, Phoebe. We really don't know anything for certain at this point."

"A book of magic," Phoebe said, shaking her head slightly. "I'm holding this thing in my hands, and I still don't quite believe it. Magic is real," she marveled. Then her smile changed into a look of calculation. "Do you think we could cast any spell in this book? Once we receive our powers, I mean?"

"I guess so," Paige said uncertainly. "I'm just worried about us getting past the first one."

She stiffened suddenly, and made a slight gasp. Phoebe frowned.

"What is it?"

"Something's wrong," Paige answered, getting to her feet. "Piper's on her way home, but - something is very wrong."

"What do you mean? Is she hurt?"

"I don't know. We'd better go downstairs."

Phoebe left the book open at the page for the unbinding spell, and the two sisters hurried down the stairs. They had just arrived on the ground floor, when they could hear Piper's SUV pulling into the driveway. Paige looked out the window.

"She's home," she reported with obvious relief. Moments later, Piper came hurrying up the steps, and burst into the house in great agitation. She closed the door behind her with a great anguished groan.

"Piper, what is it?" Paige asked anxiously.

"You guys are not going to believe this," Piper gasped breathlessly. "I think - I just saw a demon."

"A demon? A real one?"

"No, Phoebe, a fake one," Piper grunted in irritation. "Of course I mean a real one!"

"How do you know? What did it look like?" Paige asked.

"Well, it looked like…" Piper started to answer, but then her eyes bulged in sheer terror. She pointed past where her sisters were standing. "It looked like that!"

Phoebe and Paige turned, and standing only a few feet away from them, was the same undulating dark shadow Piper had seen earlier, calmly regarding them with its unblinking red eyes.

With a shriek of fright, the sisters knotted together.

"What is that thing?" Phoebe almost screamed the question.

"No idea," Piper answered. "But I think it followed me."

"What do you mean, it followed you?"

"I saw it at the apartment a few minutes ago." Piper's frown turned thoughtful. "And it was doing just what it was doing now. Just sort of standing there. Looking at me."

"Looking at us," Phoebe corrected.

"What does it want?" Paige asked, still clinging tightly to her sister.

"I tried asking it, but it doesn't seem to want to talk."

"Does it even speak?" Paige wondered aloud.

"Go on, get out of here!" Phoebe shouted, flailing her arms in the shadow's direction. "Get lost! Beat it! Scram!"

"It's not a cat, Phoebe. I don't think you can shoo it," Piper said.

"So, what do we do?"

"If it's really a demon, maybe there's a page for it in the Book of Shadows."

"And you think it will just sit there and wait, while we look up its pedigree?"

"It does seem to be waiting for something," Paige frowned in puzzlement.

"Where's the book?" Piper asked.

"Upstairs. In the attic."

"Then go. Slowly," Piper cautioned. "If you try to run, it chases you."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'll be right behind you."

Not taking her eyes off the creature, Piper placed herself directly between her sisters and their spectral visitor. "Go on," she urged her sisters.

"Piper," Paige pleaded in a frightened voice.

"It's all right, Paige. Hurry. GO!"

Without needing any further encouragement, Phoebe and Paige bolted up the stairs. The shadow made no move to follow.

"Hmm," Piper said, her curiosity starting to win out over her fear. "Look, why don't you go into the kitchen, make yourself a cup of tea, or something?" she suggested.

The creature continued to stare at her impassively.

"Okay, maybe not. Look, I'm just going to go upstairs for a minute. Make yourself comfortable down here. I'll be back in three or four years."

She began to back away slowly towards the stairwell. The creature made no apparent motion in response.

Piper planted her foot on the first step of the stairs. Sedately, the creature seemed to straighten up, as if to follow.

"Look, if you're going to follow me, just - don't chase me, all right?" Piper pleaded. "It really makes me nervous when you do that."

Piper began to back up the steps, keeping one hand firmly on the railing. The creature began to move towards her placidly.

"That's it," Piper muttered under her breath. "Nice and slow. No sudden moves, now."

She continued to climb the stairs, and the creature followed a few paces behind. It seemed to glide or float from place to place, apparently taking no notice of any physical constructs around it.

After an agonizing interval, Piper finally arrived at the landing of the attic. She stepped inside and quickly closed the door, not at all sure it would make any protective barrier against the creature right behind her.

"Any luck?" she asked her sisters.

They were kneeling on the floor, frantically flipping through pages.

"Why does this book have no index?" Phoebe howled in frustration.

"Where's your friend?" Paige asked.

"Right behind me," Piper assured them, kneeling down beside them. "I'm guessing a closed door isn't going to mean anything to him, though."

Sure enough, as the sisters watched, the inky form seemed to ooze through the door, and re-corporealize once on the other side.

Phoebe and Paige shrieked with fright, and began flipping through the book's pages in a near panic. Piper reached out her hand and halted them.

"What are you doing?"

"Phoebe, look behind you," Piper said with forced calmness.

Another shadow, significantly larger than the first, was staring resolutely at Phoebe.

"There's more than one?" Phoebe shrieked.

"What do we do?" Paige asked, her voice showing she was close to panic.

Piper looked from one shade to the other. They were advancing, slowly, but relentlessly. There wasn't time to see if there was anything in the book about these creatures.

"We cast the unbinding spell," she decided.

"What, right now? Are you crazy?" Phoebe yelled.

Piper smiled grimly. "Hey, you were the one who told me, when crazy runs in the family, run with crazy," she reminded her. "Paige, start lighting the candles."

"You're sure about this?"

"Do it."

Not entirely believing the action would be any use, Paige took up the lighter, and with shaking hands, lit each of the nine candles.

"Phoebe, hold the book open for us," Piper said, getting to her feet.

"You really think this is going to work?"

"We're about to find out."

"Be careful where you step," Paige cautioned. "The lead witch - the head of the coven - has to be facing east." She looked at Piper. "That's you."

Piper nodded solemnly, and stepped inside the circle. "Turn a little to your left. Your other left," Paige directed. "Facing that first big candle."

Piper did as she was instructed. "Okay, Phoebe, you and I need to stand at either side, turned slightly in, towards Piper."

They stepped into the circle, and Phoebe held out the book so all three of them could read the incantation at the bottom.

"What do we do now?" Phoebe asked. "Just read the spell? Then what?"

"Pray, maybe?" Paige shuddered. The creatures were just outside the circle of candles. Two more had now sprung up, surrounding the sisters on all sides.

"Okay, sisters, all three of us, together," Piper ordered. "Now!"

They began to recite the words of the spell in unison.

"In this place and in this hour, we call upon the ancient powers," they chanted. "Unbind our gifts so we remain, let all that's lost be returned again. Let every shackle fall away, that keeps us from our secret way. Restore our powers to we sisters three. The power of three will set us free."

As soon as the incantation was completed, the sisters found themselves bathed in a ghostly white light - not blindingly bright, but the sudden glare caused them all to squeeze their eyes shut. The shadow creatures began to shudder and writhe, as if in pain. Piper opened her eyes and it seemed as the light was actually entering her body - and the bodies of her sisters - it seemed to be streaming inwards, growing fainter and fainter until it finally vanished.

Piper held up her hands in front of her face, awestruck that the tips of her fingers were still glowing with the ethereal light. A sharp crackle of static electricity sparked from her fingernails.

"Oh!" She gasped in surprise.

The creatures were now a respectful distance away from the sisters, and they seemed to be almost frozen with fear. Even the undulations at the extremities of their forms had ceased.

Cautiously, Phoebe opened one eye, then the other. "Is it over? Are we done?" she asked in a shaky voice.

"Our friends are still here," Paige observed. "But they're not moving."

"No," Piper frowned. "It's like they're stuck, or something. Weird."

"I don't want them stuck, I want them gone," Phoebe declared. She waved her hands at the nearest form. "Go away! Shoo!" She shouted.

The creature didn't move, but the heavy dresser immediately to its right leapt up into the air and crashed against its form with a sickening thud. Phoebe's eyes went wide.

"Who did that? Did I do that?" she screeched, in a voice close to panic. "How did I do that?!"

The crash seemed to release the creatures from whatever temporary lock had held them; the undulations of the forms returned.

"Piper, what do we do?" Paige quavered.

Seeing that her fingertips were still glowing, Piper made a waving gesture with her hands, as if to flick the energy away from her. As all the sisters watched in open-mouthed astonishment, the shadow creature closest to Piper literally exploded - vanishing in a ball of bright white light.

"You blew him up?" Phoebe gasped. "You can blow things up?"

Piper looked down at her hands, still not quite believing what had happened, then she looked up at the shadow creatures, who seemed to be shrinking away.

"Yeah, you'd better run," she shouted after them. "If you want to keep breathing - if you even breathe," she muttered aside darkly, then shouted again, "Now, get out of here, and don't come back!"

The shadow forms vanished under the floorboards, apparently retreating in haste.

The sisters stood huddled together, almost not daring to breathe.

"Do you think they're really gone?" Paige asked. Her voice was almost a squeak.

"Let's go see," Piper suggested, and she started for the attic door. After a moment's hesitation, her sisters followed.

They reached the ground floor and looked all around them expectantly. Paige smiled in relief.

"They're gone," she assured her sisters.

"How do you know?" Phoebe demanded.

"I just do. They won't be back."

"Good riddance," Piper sighed.

Just at that moment, the doorbell rang, and all three sisters shrieked with fright at the sound.

"Oh, God," Piper put a hand over her heart.

"Are they back?" Phoebe fretted.

"I'm pretty sure demons don't ring doorbells," Paige said.

Still shaking slightly, Piper went to the front door and opened it. Leo Wyatt was standing on the porch, a wide grin on his face.

"Hello, Piper," he greeted her. "I have a brand new water heater out in the truck, and two guys to help me install it."

He looked at her pale face, and his grin faded slightly. "Are you okay?" He asked with concern. "Is now not a good time?"

Smiling with relief, Piper opened the door wide for him. "Now's the perfect time," she declared solemnly.


	13. Chapter 13

Piper was walking along a sandy, rock-strewn beach. The air was slightly chilly, and the breeze coming off the water was fairly strong. She could hear seagulls crying in the distance over the constant booming of the surf. It was daylight, but she was unsure what time of day it was, or what beach she was on.

Disoriented, Piper turned on her heel, making a slow circle in the soft, wet sand. An incoming wave lapped gently at her toes. Looking down, she noticed she was barefoot. She wasn't dressed for the beach - just an untucked blouse over slacks, and no shoes. There was nothing over the water to determine her location - just a flat, featureless expanse of blue, with a few scattered whitecaps, and tufts of cumulus clouds wafting lazily in the sky. She was standing at the water's edge. Immediately around her was mostly fine white sand, but huge, dark boulders of obsidian and granite were scattered everywhere along the shore. As Piper looked up the shoreline, the beach gave way to higher ground, with clusters of ammophilia lodged in the heavier topsoil of the dunes.

Piper had to squint in the bright sunlight, but as she looked ahead of her - she assumed she was facing north - she could just make out a battered beach house some distance away, with weatherbeaten grey siding and wide windows that looked out over the ocean. Along the beach just below the house, a figure was walking towards her. A woman, dressed in a flowing white gown with long belled sleeves, and a golden sash for a belt. As the woman came closer, Piper could see that she was a young woman, probably in her late twenties, with a long mane of raven-black hair that was constantly teased by the gusty sea breezes.

When they were only a few feet away from each other, the woman smiled broadly. Piper stared at her, frowning in puzzlement; she seemed familiar somehow.

"Hello, Piper."

The voice was dusky, almost hoarse.

Piper stared again into the face of the young woman and her mouth fell open in amazement. She had not seen them for years, but there was no mistaking those dark green eyes.

"Prue?" Piper could hardly get the name out of her mouth. "Is - is that you?"

"It's really me."

"Oh, my God. I can't believe this." Piper ran forward and hugged her oldest sister tightly to her. But then, confused, she stepped back. "You're grown up. How can you be grown up?"

"I'm two years old than you, Piper. Always have been, always will be."

"But - but - you died," Piper stammered. "You died when you were little. Barely ten years old. How can you be here now?"

"I've always been here."

"But how?"

"You opened the nexus, Piper. Here, the membrane between what is and what could be is a little thinner."

"Okay, I have absolutely no idea what that means."

"You cast the unbinding spell. That means all your magical powers - including the ability to perceive things most people can't - has been restored to you."

"I'm dreaming," Piper said, with sudden clarity.

Prue merely smiled. "Think of it as an active dream," she suggested.

She reached for her sister's hand. "Shall we walk?"

Piper hesitated for only a moment, then clasped her hand in her sister's and they began to walk leisurely along the beach, just beyond the reach of the incoming waves.

"Where are we going?" Piper asked.

"See that house over there, on the high dune?" Prue pointed. "I live there."

"And where are we, exactly?"

"On the seashore."

"Yes, but where?"

"Piper - the where doesn't matter. This is a place beyond time and space as you understand it."

Piper found her eyes were blinded by tears.

"What is it?" Prue asked.

"I'm just so happy to see you," Piper blubbered, and the sisters had to stop their walk so that Piper could bestow another fierce hug on her sister.

"I'm happy to see you too, Piper."

"I don't know how you can be here," Piper sighed, holding onto Prue for dear life.

"I'm always here, Piper. I've always been here. There's no time when you and I did not exist, and there's no time when we will cease to be. That's from the Bhagavad Gita. I think."

As Piper hugged her sister, she was aware of feeling a great, transcendent joy - and with it, a tranquility that had been missing from her life for far too long.

"I've missed you so much," Piper wept.

"I've always been with you," Prue assured her. "Now that you have your powers, you won't have to take these things on faith any more."

Prue encircled Piper in her arms and held her, until the worst of her sobs had quieted. Then, by unspoken consent, they continued their walk, hand in hand, along the beach.

"So why couldn't I see you before?"

"You can see me any time you want," Prue answered. "You're only seeing me now because you wanted to."

"There are so many questions I want to ask you. I don't know where to start."

Prue's smile dimmed only slightly. "I'm afraid this isn't a social call, Piper. I came here to warn you. Now that you've found the Book of Shadows, they'll be coming after you."

"Demons, you mean? We've already met one group of them."

"They won't be the last," Prue said grimly. "The forces of darkness look at the power and knowledge you now possess, and they will want to steal it for personal gain."

"What about my personal gain?" Piper ruffed. "What's the point of being a witch if I can't use the powers for myself?"

"You weren't given these gifts for your own gratification, Piper. They were given to you so that you could help others and protect the innocent."

"Well, that sucks." Piper made a face. "I don't mean that. Not really. But I wish I had even some idea what I'm supposed to do," Piper said despairingly. "I'm flying blind here, Prue. I realize I've been handed all this power, and responsibility, but I have no idea what the rules are. Or what I need to do next."

"Don't worry. I know someone who can help you with that."

"You?" Piper asked hopefully.

Prue grinned. "Someone on your own plane of existence."

"So, are you dead, or what?"

"Piper, when you're in this place, you need to stop worrying about states of being. It will just get really confusing."

"Oh, I'm already confused, trust me," Piper retorted. Her expression turned somber. "Is there anything I can do for you? To help you? Or … avenge you?" she asked awkwardly.

Prue gave her sister her warmest, most radiant smile. "There's nothing you can do for me," she answered. "But there is something you can do, to protect others."

"There's a demon in the lake, isn't there? I mean, it's still there, still… alive."

Prue nodded sadly. "Yes, there is."

"Can I kill it? Or at least stop it?"

"You can, if you let Phoebe and Paige help you."

"How do you even know about Paige?"

"She's my sister, Piper, how would I not know about her?" She clasped Piper's hands. "You need to take care of them. Both of them. They need you, far more than they let on. They look to you to guide them. Wherever you lead, they'll follow."

"But what do I do?"

"Just remember what Grams told you. Love is the strongest magic of all. Whenever you're unsure of the way, love will protect and support you, and light your path."

Piper was suddenly aware that as the waves were cresting on the beach, her consciousness was also cresting at the very edge of the dream state. She clutched at Prue fearfully.

"Don't leave me," she cried.

"Don't worry, Piper. You'll see me again. Go. Hurry. I love you, always." Prue hugged her sister and kissed her forehead.

Piper sat upright in bed, suddenly wide awake. Blinking furiously, she saw daylight streaming in from the window - she'd forgotten to close the curtains and blinds when she'd gone to bed. She was still in Grams' room, with mostly Grams' belongings surrounding her. But the dream had left Piper with a lingering sense of tranquility and well-being, and she suddenly realized she was now where she was always meant to be. She was home.

As she slipped out of bed, she found a crumpled piece of paper on the nightstand - one that hadn't been there the night before. She picked it up and examined it. It was a crayon drawing, done many years ago - and Piper drew in her breath sharply as she realized she recognized the drawing.

It was a child's illustration of two sisters holding hands, with simple triangles to indicate dresses, and lopsided circles with dots for faces. "I love my sister forever," the note read, and one of the figures with black scribbled crayon for hair was labeled "Prue", the one with brown crayon was labeled "Piper". Prue had drawn this for her, when Piper was only four years old. And Piper hadn't seen this drawing since she was at least that age.

Piper found her eyes welling with tears. Finding a tape roll in the writing desk, she carefully affixed the drawing to the top of her freestanding mirror - where it would be the first thing she would see every morning.

"I love you too, Prue," she whispered to the drawing. "Always."

Some time later, after a quick shower - with hot water! - and a change of clothes, Piper came into the kitchen to find both her sisters already awake, and busily turning out the kitchen cupboards for any supplies that could still be salvaged.

"Look at you two, already hard at work," she marveled.

"Hey, Piper," Phoebe greeted her with a smile. "We saved some coffee and an apple muffin for you."

"You guys made apple muffins?" Piper was astonished.

Paige made a face. "I picked 'em up at the market. You know I can't cook."

"An apple muffin and coffee sounds wonderful. Thanks." She settled herself on a barstool at the kitchen island. "How are you guys doing this morning? I know yesterday kinda hit a new standard for weird."

Phoebe and Paige exchanged a quick glance. "Yeah, it was pretty creepy," Paige admitted.

"But then we decided, we're witches now, and that's seriously cool," Phoebe added, putting a cup of fresh coffee in front of Piper.

"Phoebe and me started talking about all the things we can do," Paige said shyly, warming to the topic.

"What can't we do?" Phoebe grinned, popping the apple muffin into the microwave.

"You guys, we weren't given these powers for personal gain," Piper chided gently.

"Aww," Phoebe groaned in mock dismay.

"You read the book, Pheebs. Good witches are meant to be protectors of the innocent. That's a pretty big responsibility."

"Do we have to be good?" Phoebe asked.

"Yes," Piper declared, not caring whether Phoebe was joking or not. "If you're living in this house, then, yes, you do."

"You're not sorry we cast the spell, are you?" Paige asked worriedly.

"Are you?" Piper threw the question back.

"I think… things will be different now," Paige allowed. "Probably a lot different. But I guess there's no point being a witch if you can't cast spells now and then."

"And there's so much to learn," Phoebe added, dropping the warmed muffin onto a plate and handing it to Piper. "We don't even know where to start."

"We did find our demon, though," Paige said. "We found him in the Book of Shadows after you went to bed. He's called a Shade."

"Which seems pretty obvious," Phoebe interjected.

"They're not demons, not really. They're sort of… well, parasites, I guess. They feed off negative emotions, grief, anger, despair, stuff like that."

"The book says there's no way to actually get rid of them, but if they appear, it means there's something really not right in your life you need to fix. Once you resolve whatever is bothering you, they go away on their own."

Piper snorted. "Wish we'd known that yesterday."

Phoebe looked at Piper, suddenly serious. "Really, Piper. Are you okay with this?"

Piper mulled the question over for several moments before answering. "I have to admit, I wasn't sure when I went to bed last night," she allowed. "But this morning, I think… yeah. I'm okay with it." She hesitated. "I had this really wonderful dream," she confessed. "I was with Prue. And she was all grown up."

"Really? You spoke to Prue?"

Piper smiled tolerantly. "It was just a dream, Paige."

"Are you sure of that?"

"Well… it seemed awfully real," Piper admitted. "I was walking along a beach, and Prue was taking me to this beach house where she lived."

"With grey siding? Up on a high dune?" Phoebe asked. "And these big, black rocks scattered all over the beach with white sand?"

Startled, Piper set down her coffee cup. "You had the same dream?"

"Not exactly," Phoebe answered. She hesitated for a moment. "I was with mom."

"You got to talk to mom?" Piper was astounded.

"What did she say?" Paige asked.

"She…" Phoebe looked down at the floor, sheepishly, suddenly self-conscious. Then she looked up at her sisters again. "She told me, don't be afraid. Stop running away. That I should stay with the two of you, let you into my heart, and every blessing I thought I'd lost would be returned to me, a thousand fold." She stared at the floor again. "You know. Mom stuff."

Impulsively, Paige gave Phoebe a quick hug.

"Wow, Pheebs, that's … wonderful," Piper marveled, not really having words befitting her reaction.

Phoebe discreetly wiped a tear away. "Yeah, made me think, maybe there's hope for me yet, huh?"

"How about you, Paige? Go for any beachside strolls last night?" Piper asked.

"Uhh… no…"

"What? No secret meetings with family members you love?"

Paige looked blankly at Piper, then at Phoebe. "I'm with you guys," she said finally, as if that explained everything.

Piper took a sip from her coffee cup, to hide her smile.

"So, the next big question is, what do we do now?" Phoebe said. "Now that we're witches, how do we figure out what we're supposed to do?"

As Piper mulled over her answer, the doorbell rang. She frowned in puzzlement.

"You guys expecting anyone?"

Phoebe and Paige shook their heads. The doorbell rang again. With a shrug, Piper got up from her stool, walked into the foyer, and opened the door. To her surprise, Leo Wyatt was standing on the porch, a bemused smile on his face.

"Leo!" Piper exclaimed. "Hi! I'm sorry, we weren't expecting you this morning. Was there something we forgot to do for the water heater yesterday?"

"Uhh… no. I'm actually here for an entirely different reason." He shuffled his feet slightly. "Piper… I don't know how to say this, so I'm just going to say it. I know what happened here yesterday. I know that you and your sisters are witches, and that you've just received your magical powers. I also know that you're really in need of help, and… I know we've only just met, but I think I can help you."

Piper's mouth fell open in astonishment.

"Okay, I really don't know what to say to that," she said awkwardly.

"Yeah, it's not really the best conversation starter, is it?" Leo admitted, clearly uncomfortable. "Would it help if I told you… that Prue sent me?"

Piper had almost decided to slam the door shut in Leo's face, when Paige came running up to her.

"Let him in," she whispered breathlessly.

Piper stared at her baby sister. "Seriously?"

"Trust me," she pleaded. "He can help us."

Piper continued to stare at Paige for a long moment, assessing her pleading look; then she turned back to Leo. He was trying to hold a smile that looked a lot closer to a grimace.

"How can I know that Prue sent you?" she demanded.

Leo sighed. "She told me to tell you… that you said you were flying blind. That you want to know what the rules are." His smile became more relaxed. "I can tell you what the rules are."

Piper considered that for a moment. She looked back at Paige, who was nodding pleadingly for Piper's assent. She turned back to Leo.

"Are we going to get into trouble for this?" she asked suspiciously.

"Probably," Leo admitted.

Coming to a decision, she opened the door wide to let him enter.

"Come on in," she invited him.

Leo stepped into the foyer, and Piper closed the front door behind them; in so doing, she accepted opening the next chapter of her life - wherever that might lead her next.


End file.
